When Tomorrow Comes
by moonlightandmagnolias85
Summary: The world did not change as he hoped it would, and neither did he die as he hoped he would in the end. Left with a promise he is not willing to break, and trying to help a young woman he is not sure what to do with, Enjolras must face a different tomorrow than the one in which he'd planned.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter I

The day Gabrielle left Mademoiselle Gerard's School for Girls was the happiest day of her life. Sweet freedom! No more scrubbing floors in between lessons, serving the others before she could eat her own supper, and sleeping alone in the servant's quarters. There would be no more pampered and pretty bourgeoisie girls completely ignoring her (unless giving her orders), and no more studying and working simultaneously.

Despite these things which made her life at Mademoiselle Gerard's fairly miserable, she wouldn't trade her time there for anything. She now had her education; indeed, even petty Mademoiselle Gerard had to admit that Gabrielle was one of the brightest girls in the school. Gabrielle never would have been able to attend if her brother had not paid as much as he could and promised that she would work for her room and board. And now she was the one teaching. Granted, her two small charges had absolutely no interest in the things they were _supposed _to be learning, but she did her best to instruct them anyway.

She sternly tapped the desk where Armand, a precocious nine year old boy, was drifting off to sleep, his head slipping off his hand. It didn't work to wake him and Gabrielle sighed, smacking him lightly on the side of his head. "Armand! Wake up and get back to your sums."

The boy jumped and glared at her for a minute before turning back to the slate in front of him with a yawn. "Sorry, Mademoiselle Feuilly."

Louisa, his sister, sat quietly reading a book in a chair by the window, her lips moving rapidly as she whispered the words. Gabrielle never had to chastise Louisa, but despite Armand's occasional misbehavior and lackluster work ethic, he was her favorite. He had a warm personality and charm that would make him a leader someday, Gabrielle was sure. Even at nine years old, he could command a room.

"Mademoiselle, are you going to see your brother this evening?" Armand asked suddenly. Anything to distract from his work.

"Yes. Your _sums, _Armand."

Armand grinned and put down his chalk. "Are you going to go to that café? You know, where that man gets up and makes those long-winded speeches?"

Gabrielle stopped and stared at the boy. How in the world could he know about that? "Did you follow me last week, Armand?"

He shrugged and picked up his chalk, going back to his work. "I was curious. Isn't that scandalous, Mademoiselle, a young woman like you in the company of all those men?" His tone was innocent, but Gabrielle knew Armand was playing one of his favorite games – a game of control and power. He liked to have it. If he didn't become like his father, he could perhaps use it to do a lot of good one day.

"To some, perhaps," Gabrielle replied confidently. "But, my dear Armand, there are those in Paris that believe a woman like me is the equal of men. Isn't that remarkable?"

Armand didn't reply, but looked at her with curiosity in his eyes. What Gabrielle wouldn't give to introduce him to Monsieur Enjolras...

* * *

That night, Gabrielle and her brother, whom his friends simply called by his last name of Feuilly, hailed a _fiacre _to the Café Musain. Apparently, Enjolras had asked recently for them all to be on the lookout for firearms. He wanted to begin stockpiling for the eventual revolution.

"I suppose what you are all doing does come with a bit of danger," Gabrielle mused. On one hand, the danger worried her, but the young romantic in her was secretly thrilled at the thought of adventure. She knew the _Les Amis de l'ABC_ wanted to change the face of France; the eventual outcome, they hoped, would be a revolution that would lead to a republican government and the dissolution of the monarchy. Gabrielle agreed with their views, mostly due to her brother's influence and the _Les Amis_ indulgence with her presence at their meetings, and because she was still young enough to not truly understand the bloodshed that comes with revolution. It all seemed like a grand adventure, with real heroes and villains to be defeated.

Before long, the _fiacre_ pulled up in front of the cafe and Feuilly and Gabrielle climbed down. Feuilly smiled, but said in self-admonishment, "What would our mother and father say if they were alive to see me taking you around such disorderly young men?"

"They would be appalled, most likely." Gabrielle smiled and shrugged. "Does it really matter whether or not I am a proper lady here?"

They entered the café, and her brother immediately led her to the back set of stairs. "You know," Feuilly grinned, "The mistress says we're much too rowdy even for her establishment. But she's really quite fond of us, and considering Grantaire alone drinks his weight in alcohol every time we're here, we do give her a good business."

They ascended the stairs and Feuilly opened the door at the top. Gabrielle had been expecting a much livelier scene, but it seemed like they were early. Only a few of her brother's friends were present.

"Feuilly! Glad you could make it." Monsieur Combeferre walked over and gripped Feuilly's hand, shaking it heartily. "And Mademoiselle, here again? You are becoming a regular staple at our little meetings."

"I'm afraid I am...I have to confess, I'm rather intrigued by what I've been hearing." Gabrielle smiled and followed Combeferre over to a table where Enjolras was furiously writing, two books propped open in front of him.

"I do hope we've lived up to our reputation."

Gabrielle laughed. "That and more. Good evening, Monsieur Enjolras."

Enjolras looked up and seem startled to see her. It seemed he was so engrossed in his work he hadn't heeded their arrival. "Mademoiselle Feuilly, I am happy to see you've joined us this evening." He avoided her eyes, as usual, and looked at a spot on the wall just over her shoulder.

Her brother sat down in another unoccupied chair and gestured to Enjolras' work. "If you aren't lecturing us about our cause, you're busy writing about it. We really should hide your books to get you to have fun every once in a while."

Enjolras smiled at Feuilly's familiar teasing and simply went back to his work. Gabrielle figured he had to have scores of patience in order to deal with a bunch of drunk schoolboys all the time.

Gabrielle was mostly silent as she listened to her brother and his friends talk and joke. She enjoyed their light-hearted company, though, and was happy that her brother had found such nice young men to spend time with. They had always had such a lonely life and her brother had worked so hard to get where he was, was still working hard every day, in fact, and he deserved a bit of fun to go along with his passionate views.

As the evening wore on, all of the _Les Amis _eventually came to the Café Musain. Combeferre told her that even though it seemed like Enjolras wasn't really paying attention, he would know exactly who had decided to skip the meeting tomorrow, should anyone dare. When Gabrielle asked what would happen to the elopers, Combeferre didn't really have an answer, other than Enjolras' disdain was enough to make anyone feel shameful. Somehow, Gabrielle didn't have a hard time believing that.

After a while, Gabrielle gently tapped Enjolras' shoulder and said curiously, "Monsiuer? What is it you are writing this evening?"

Enjolras looked up and laid his pen down, stretching his hands. "Well. I'm trying to write about the right of the general public to a free education. I don't know how well I'm doing," he confessed.

"A free education? Are there books already written on this subject?"

He shook his head. "Not whole books, no – bits of political theory and social law mention the idea here and there, but as far as I know, there isn't a single source. I would like to write one, eventually, as I believe education and knowledge one of the cornerstones of progress."

"When you say 'everyone,' Monsieur, who do you mean?" Gabrielle asked.

He looked at her strangely and stressed, "_Everyone._ The rich bourgeoisie who can take their pick of schools and tutors, the working class, and even the _gamins_ you find on the street. Only through knowledge can mankind learn to be better and evolve."

"Do you mean women, too?"

"Yes, I do mean women, too," Enjolras said with a slight smile. "Do _you _think women have the right to a free and equal education, Mademoiselle Feuilly?"

"Absolutely, Monsieur. What I wouldn't give to be able to attend university lectures like all of you. When I was at school, the other girls only cared about learning enough to catch a husband. I often wondered if they truly didn't know any better, or if they really believed that was all they were worth?"

Enjolras contemplated for a moment. "That is an interesting question. Do you suppose people have a natural need or inclination to seek knowledge, or will people simply be happy believing what has been preached to them in their youth?"

"My brother had a natural inclination," Gabrielle pointed out. "I suppose mine comes from being mostly raised by him. He never let me feel less than anyone, intellectually or because we had no money."

"Your brother is a remarkable man, Mademoiselle," Enjolras replied sincerely. "He is a true believer in the cause of justice and equality. He understands the importance of a republic with elected officials and a constitution created by the people."

"Yes, he does." Gabrielle's gazed shifted to her brother, who was laughing in the corner with Monsieurs Courfeyrac and Prouvaire. She leaned in conspiratorially to Enjolras and said quietly, "Although, I must confess...the romantic in me does wish he would find someone to love. He works so hard, he deserves happiness, too."

Enjolras raised his eyebrows. "And does a man or woman have to fall in love in order to find happiness?"

"Are you always going to follow my remarks with more questions, Monsieur Enjolras?"

"Yes," he said simply. "I am a naturally curious individual."

"In that case, no. I do not believe you must fall in love to find happiness. Or marry to find happiness."

Enjolras smiled at her answer. "Do you intend to marry, Mademoiselle Feuilly?"

"Not if I can help it, Monsieur," Gabrielle said disdainfully.

"Do you intend to be a governess forever?"

Gabrielle sighed and looked down at the wooden table. "I certainly hope not. Except for the nights that I can sneak out and enjoy the company of you and your friends here, I feel very...isolated."

Enjolras leaned forward, a sign he was interested in what she had to say. "How so?"

"Well...I am not a servant. So the others will not speak to me much. I am not part of the family, so I do not dine with them..." she shrugged. "Unless I am with the children, I am usually alone in my room."

"What do you do with your time?"

"I write, usually. I hope to live by my pen," Gabrielle confessed cautiously. "So no, Monsieur Enjolras, I do not want to be a governess forever."

Enjolras smiled slowly. "A writer?" he questioned. "Of what?"

"Of novels." Gabrielle straightened in her chair. "Have you ever heard of the English woman Miss Austen? She wrote novels. And did gain _some_ financial independence. I enjoy reading her books."

"I have heard of her," Enjolras replied. "I see nothing wrong with being a writer, Mademoiselle Feuilly. I think it rather interesting to see someone with such high ambitions."

Gabrielle smiled. "Thank you...though, I must admit, they are selfish compared to yours...you, who want to change the world."

Enjolras' eyes blazed for a moment as he replied, "Not the world...not yet. Just France."

* * *

**Yes, I am attempting an OC. Yes, I gave Feuilly a sister. Yes, I'm taking liberties with the story.**

**I am aware this will turn off many readers, but I don't mind. I hope those with an open mind and a taste for romance will continue reading. This story is shameless, seriously, and I'm writing only to please myself. With that being said, however, I do hope that if you're enjoying it, you do review and let me know. I am always happy to have constructive criticism. :) Thanks!**

**~A**


	2. Chapter II

Chapter II

The Baron de Sauveterre, Gabrielle's employer, was a monarchist through and through. Gabrielle knew she had to be careful what she said around his children, as children are _always _wont to repeat things adults say, and Armand had already proven to be up to his usual mischief in following her to the Café Musain. She avoided the café for a few weeks after her talk with Enjolras, but she didn't mind too much. On her usual night off, Gabrielle wrote her novel at a much less raucous café closer to home. If she had any unwanted shadows, they would soon grow bored with her predictable and mundane activity.

One beautiful April day, Gabrielle found herself in _The Tuileries_ garden with Louisa and Armand. She had acquiesced to their pleas to have their lessons there since the sun was too bright and tempting to stay indoors. They relaxed on a blanket in the grass and each child was working math problems on their little slates. Louisa's were almost as tough as Armand's, and Gabrielle teased him about the fact that his little sister was soon going to leave him behind if he didn't get serious about his studies. Today it worked to sufficiently motivate him, though it usually didn't matter.

"I'm done!" Armand said triumphantly and held his slate out for her to see. She quickly checked his work and praised him for getting the problem right. "Now, what is 2,583 divided by 53?"

Armand erased his slate and got back to work, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as it usually did when he concentrated, and Gabrielle grinned, turning back to her book.

"Mademoiselle Feuilly!" Gabrielle looked up when she heard her name and looked around. Coming toward her were three of her brother's friends – Monsieurs Courfeyrac, Joly, and Enjolras.

She smiled in greeting and rose, as did Armand, his math problem forgotten. Gabrielle curtseyed politely to the men. "Good afternoon, Monsieurs." They each greeted her and Gabrielle took in the books in their arms. "Are you all coming from class or going to?"

"Coming from, thank goodness. I'm happy to be free on this beautiful afternoon." Monsieur Courfeyrac smiled and gestured to Armand. "And who are your charges, Mademoiselle?"

Gabrielle put an arm around Armand's shoulders and held Louisa's hand as the shy little girl rose to stand behind her, trying to hide her face in Gabrielle's skirts. "This handsome young man is Armand de Sauveterre, and this is his sister, Louisa. These young men are friends of my brothers, Armand, and students at the university. Monsieur Courfeyrac, Joly, and Enjolras," Gabrielle said as she gestured to each of them in turn.

"Pleased to meet you, Monsieurs." Armand shook their hands seriously, but stopped when he came to Enjolras. "I remember you, Monsieur. I heard you make a speech once."

Enjolras' eyebrows rose and he glanced at Gabrielle. "Oh? And what did you think of it, young man?"

"Well, I don't think I understood most of it." Armand frowned. "But I do know you're a _Republican, _like that General Lamarque. My father doesn't like him."

Gabrielle winced and hoped Enjolras wouldn't be ruffled by the words of a spoiled, rich nine year old.

"I'm sure your father has his reasons," Enjolras said diplomatically, but with an icy edge to his tone.

"Well! What are you all doing out here today?" Joly interceded gaily, changing the subject.

Gabrielle smiled in gratitude. "The children convinced me they would be more productive outside today. So far they are doing well. Armand here, though, is convinced that he doesn't need to go to university someday. I think that you three would disagree?"

Courfeyrac grinned. "Educated men are much more attractive to young ladies, Armand. Though that might not mean much to you right now..."

Armand made a face at his words and Joly laughed. He began talking to Armand about the benefits of an education, and Gabrielle watched Enjolras, who soon began impatiently shifting from foot to foot. She could tell he wanted to be on his way, but while the others were distracted, Gabrielle stepped forward and asked curiously, "How are your plans coming along, Monsieur?"

"They are coming," Enjolras said cautiously. "I have noticed your absence at the last few meetings, Mademoiselle."

Gabrielle smiled, remembering what Monsieur Combeferre had told her about Enjolras _always _noticing who was missing from their gatherings. "I'm flattered that you _noticed_, Monsieur. I have been cautious..." she whispered, "since I learned that Armand followed me one night. That is when he heard you speak."

"Our meetings are no place for the children of aristocrats," Enjolras agreed. "Did he really not understand what I said?"

"He understands enough to know he could get me in trouble with his father."

"Mmm," Enjolras made a soft sound of understanding. "Come when you can, but stay cautious, Mademoiselle Feuilly. There is much at stake for us right now."

_He is always so serious_, Gabrielle thought.

Enjolras soon interrupted the others and reminded them that they needed to be going. They said polite goodbyes and continued through the park.

"Back to work," Gabrielle said, and settled back down on the blanket, handing each child their slate.

Louisa scooted closer to Gabrielle and leaned in, a bright smile on her face. "Mademoiselle Feuilly! That Monsieur Enjolras is very handsome." Her little face was pink and she giggled.

Gabrielle laughed and pinched her cheeks. "Why, Louisa!" She leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "I have to say I agree, my darling, but he is also _very serious." _She screwed up her face and narrowed her eyes in her best impression of Enjolras and the little girl giggled and fell over dramatically.

It was days like today, Gabrielle reflected, that she didn't really mind her job as a governess.

* * *

The next week, Gabrielle was able to sneak away to the Café Musain again. She made it upstairs just in time to see Enjolras beginning an impassioned speech to his friends. He stood on a table in the corner in order to be seen by all, and his eyes blazed as he spoke. Gabrielle glanced around to find her brother, and spying him on the other side of the room, slowly made her way over. She whispered hello, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, and turned her attention back to Enjolras.

"My friends, General Lamarque is the only government official that is on the side of the people. He is the only one who sees the suffering as we do every day – the children running barefoot through the streets, learning that thievery is a better way to survive than hard work. For what will hard work get them, I ask? _Nothing_," he emphasized. "For there are _no jobs._ France is suffering as prices, rent and taxes steadily rise. All while our good king Louis-Phillippe sits on his throne growing fatter and richer at the expense of our people. This injustice is not to be borne!" he roared.

Gabrielle felt a chill go through her body as she watched him. He was absolutely amazing – no wonder these men looked to him for leadership. He was a natural and came alive as he spoke. Where was the usually quiet, reserved, and stoic young man who sat in the corner and observed? He was gone, replaced by this golden Apollo, a mythic figure come to life as he spoke of the things that made the blood sing in his veins. At that moment, Gabrielle would have gladly taken up arms and followed him into battle, as would every other person in the room. They all shook their fists in approval and hung on his every word.

Towards the end of his speech, Enjolras lowered his voice and there was a collective breath that ran through the room, everyone leaning in to better hear, just as he wanted. He looked at each person in turn, holding their gaze with his icy blue eyes, and seemed to see into their very souls. "Soon, the time will come for us to take action. Soon, we will free our glorious nation from the hands which have stolen her from us, and the blood that was spilled two years ago will be avenged. Soon, the people will rise! _Vive le France!_"

Cheers and chanting reverberated through the room and Gabrielle found herself cheering and clapping just as wildly as the rest of them. Enjolras jumped down from the table, shaking hands and graciously accepting the accolades that came his way. Gabrielle couldn't help but feel that she was watching someone who was going to go down in history. He should be the subject of a painting, looking just as he looked now – shirt open, cravat loose, disorderly curls, and eyes that could see the future. Surely, in five hundred years, this man would have his name written in every history book read by children throughout the world, an Alexander for the new age – the man who would bring about the final, and _real_, French Revolution.

* * *

An hour or so later, the meeting had mostly cleared out, except for the few core members of the _Les Amis de l'ABC_, and Gabrielle. She was too in awe of Enjolras to speak to him tonight, and sat with her brother at a table by the window.

"Enjolras was marvelous tonight, wasn't he?"

"He was in rare form," Feuilly agreed. "He told me they saw you in the park with the de Sauveterre children last week. He seemed concerned about the boy?"

"He followed me here one night. He is _full _of trouble," Gabrielle said fondly. "He heard Enjolras speak and claims he did not understand, but I think he understands enough."

Feuilly frowned and took her hand. "Gabrielle, though I enjoy seeing you here, I do not want trouble for you. We can go elsewhere and see each other."

Gabrielle squeezed his hand. Her brother had always been her only protector. "Alexandre, I do not come to these meetings just to see _you._ I share your views, and believe in your cause, and I have to admit, the thought of a revolution is rather thrilling."

Feuilly frowned deeper. "Do you truly understand what a revolution would mean?"

"Do you?"

"_Yes_, I do, Gabrielle," Feuilly explained patiently. "I'm not so sure all of the _Les Amis_ do, but I know I am willing to lay down my life in the name of progress and equality. Combeferre believes in progress through peace, but Enjolras...he says there is a battle coming. He can feel it in his veins, and I will follow him into that battle."

Even as Feuilly spoke the words with conviction, Gabrielle had a hard time truly believing them. She tried to picture her brother shooting a musket, but the image of him with a paintbrush, bent over his beautiful fans, played instead.

She said nothing for a while, then sighed. "I almost envy you...the adventure of it. Taking up arms to fight for justice, like the Americans in their revolution. You will be real heroes, the kind people write about in novels."

"We are no heroes, Mademoiselle Feuilly." Gabrielle jumped as Enjolras suddenly appeared at her side. "You are romanticizing revolution, when in reality many of us will not come out alive. There is nothing romantic about that."

She gazed up at him, at his marble exterior and calm facade, and felt she could almost call his bluff. "You long for your revolution, Monsieur. You romanticize it, too, in your own way. Just because you understand the risks does not mean your heart does not beat wildly in pleasure when you think of taking up arms to fight for your beloved _Patria._"

Enjolras pulled up a chair to join their conversation and Gabrielle felt a little triumphant that he was paying attention to her again. She knew she was developing a ridiculous fascination with the man, but really, who could help it? He sometimes seemed to shine with a sort of ethereal, holy light.

He regarded her evenly, contemplating her words. "Perhaps that is romanticizing. I think of it more as a calling, Mademoiselle."

"I regard that as rather the same thing," she said quickly. "And I do think it is your calling, Monsieur Enjolras. After seeing you speak tonight, I gladly would take up arms and follow your lead." She blushed a bit at that last statement.

Feuilly rubbed his forehead uncomfortably and said sheepishly, "My sister has a rather vivid imagination, as you can tell, Enjolras."

Gabrielle glared at him, her temper rising. "Why should I not be able to fight as well as you? You've never wielded a gun before, Alexandre. I could learn as quickly, and be just as able."

If Enjolras was capable of looking amused, Gabrielle imagined he looked it now. "Indeed, Mademoiselle? We have spoken of women being the equal of men before. I would not turn you away from the fight if you were to join," he said seriously.

Gabrielle resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at her brother in triumph and she did feel rather smug at Enjolras' admission. "Thank you, Monsieur. I appreciate that your actions would match your words."

Feuilly looked as if he wanted to say more, but Gabrielle rose. "I do need to be going, though, it is late."

Enjolras rose and looked hesitatingly at Feuilly. "Will you accompany your sister home, Feuilly?"

"Yes," he said curiously, "unless you will do the job for me? It is on the way to your apartment, after all." He looked incredulous, and Gabrielle felt a thrill again. She knew Enjolras did not usually pay attention to women, and yet he was offering to walk her home. She would be the envy of every woman downstairs in the tavern.

"If you do not mind, Mademoiselle?" Enjolras asked politely.

"No, not at all. Thank you, Monsieur Enjolras."

Enjolras offered her his arm and they made their way through the room. Gabrielle could feel the men's eyes on her back and she had a feeling they would tease Enjolras mercilessly tomorrow. He either didn't care or didn't realize, and paid no attention to them as they left the café.

She told him the baron's address and they began walking.

"Am I truly on your way home, Monsieur, or are you just being a gentleman?"

Enjolras glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and told her his address. "I am not going out of my way, Mademoiselle Feuilly."

"Oh. Well, that's good..." Her voice trailed off awkwardly and the sudden silence of the still night compared to the café rendered them silent, as well. Gabrielle didn't know what else to say. Suddenly, Enjolras spoke.

"I heard from a source today that General Lamarque is ill."

Gabrielle glanced up at him, realizing how tall he was now that she was walking right next to him. "How ill?"

"I do not know. It seems as if he has been struck with cholera. I'd imagine it is serious."

Gabrielle frowned. She didn't really know what that would mean for his cause – would it incite fire into the hearts of the people or would losing their champion have the opposite effect? "What do you think that will mean, Monsieur?"

He let her question linger for a while, their footfalls echoing silently on the pavement. Finally, he said, "I believe it could be the impetus I have been waiting for."

She stopped walking and he turned to look at her. She was once again struck by his beauty as a lone streetlamp shined down on his hair, turning it golden in the light. She looked at him a little too long and blushed, averting her eyes. "And you will fight? Your friends will fight?"

"I will fight, yes. I believe my friends will, although I do not know if all of them truly realize it yet. Sometimes, I think this is all fun and games to them," he said disdainfully.

"Not every man has that calling, Monsieur, that we spoke of earlier. Not all are as selfless or brave."

He frowned, always so serious and self-effacing. "I do not think myself brave, Mademoiselle Feuilly. Others should not think so, either."

Gabrielle smiled and continued walking, taking his arm again. "Perhaps not, but they do. And they will continue to think so. You have a natural charm, and I believe you _do _know this. I believe men are not made leaders, but born so. You were born to lead these men."

This time it was Enjolras who stopped and looked at her. "You think too much of me." For the first time since she'd met him, Gabrielle heard the slightest twinge of doubt in voice. It made him seem more man than God.

"Your modesty does you credit, Monsieur."

Enjolras hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, "You may call me Antoine, if you prefer, Mademoiselle."

Gabrielle felt another spark of excitement run through her, but she tried to to hide her feelings behind a calm exterior like his. "Then you may call me Gabrielle."

He smiled, or what passed for a smile for him, and they walked in companionable silence all the way to the de Sauveterre house.

"This is it," Gabrielle said quietly as they approached, and Enjolras looked up at the towering structure with disdain.

"So few people, yet so much space. Wasteful," he commented, and Gabrielle had to admit she agreed. She had never seen the point in having so many bedrooms the furniture had to be covered with sheets just to keep the dust off.

"Yes, well. They keep me employed, so I will not complain."

"Thank you for letting me walk you home. I enjoy your conversation, Gabrielle." Enjolras looked a little uncomfortable as he spoke, and Gabrielle took that as a good sign.

"And I yours. I will see you at your meeting next week?" she asked uncertainly, and he nodded.

"You are always welcome."

Gabrielle reached out and touched his arm in farewell, and he continued down the street. She watched him for a moment, then called softly and unexpectedly, "Antoine!" He turned back to look at her. She didn't know exactly what she wanted to express, so she said the closest thing she could think of. "Be careful."

He smiled and turned, continuing on his way. Gabrielle had a feeling his glorious revolution was almost upon him.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. :) Please review!**


	3. Chapter III

Chapter III

Gabrielle was no longer allowed to take the children outdoors. Cholera was spreading through the city, and the baron wanted his children as minimally exposed as possible. As the days grew warmer, the children became more irritable, having to sit inside the stuffy rooms for lessons and for play time. The baron didn't even want them going into the garden, and Gabrielle had to cede to his wishes, even if she thought he was a little too overzealous. She hadn't been able to do much of anything lately, either; even her own writing was forgotten, stuffed under her pillow. She had sent her brother a brief note, apologizing for her absence and urging for news, but so far, there had been no reply.

Of course, not even the fear of cholera could keep the baron from having a dinner party, however, and Gabrielle was instructed to have the children ready to make an appearance sharply at seven o'clock. Louisa would recite her Italian and play the piano. Just the thought of it made the little girl quake with fear, for she hated being the center of attention, and Gabrielle tried to re-assure her.

"Louisa, you are so _good _at the piano! You will dazzle them. And your Italian? It is flawless, my love."

Louisa's lip trembled. "What if I make a mistake? Hit a false note?"

Gabrielle knelt down and took the little girl's hands. "If you make a mistake, you simply keep going. Everyone makes mistakes, Louisa. No one is perfect."

"But I will get too scared and forget my place..."

"Well...then _if_ you make a mistake, you must simply count to ten, very slowly, in your mind. And think of nothing else but the counting. And then, when you've counted to ten, take a deep breath and keep going. Can you try that for me?"

Louisa nodded, still looking doubtful, and Gabrielle stood up, straightening her dress. She gestured Armand forward and down the stairs and took Louisa's hand. The dinner guests were in the parlour, and Gabrielle and the children entered promptly at seven, just as the baron had requested. She ushered Louisa forward and faded into a corner, sitting demurely on a chair. None of the guests took notice of her.

Louisa recited her Italian flawlessly and answered polite questions about her studies from some of the ladies before sitting at the piano. She played slowly and a bit clumsily, but didn't make any major mistakes, and her wide smile at the end almost made Gabrielle forget her place and cheer. Louisa retreated to her side once she was finished, and Armand sat near his father, listening to his conversation with the other men.

Gabrielle wondered when the baron would excuse them, but her ears perked up when she caught their conversation.

"It seems that the cholera has not just brought disease to the city," an elderly gentleman commented disdainfully, "but now I am hearing talk of _riots._ Will the people never be satisfied with what they have?"

"General Lamarque has them up in arms with his illness," the baron said. "He is popular with the people. The king should beware or we will have another successful uprising on our hands. I have contemplated leaving the city for the summer..."

Gabrielle winced. If the baron left, then she would have to leave, too. She would miss all of the excitement. If the baron and the rest of the _bourgeois_ were speaking of the possibility of uprisings, then surely it would happen soon.

"Ha! Do not let them chase you out of the city. Stay where you are, the trash on the street will soon be silenced. The king will not stand for this."

"I hear they want a revolution," Armand suddenly spoke and Gabrielle froze, praying that he would say nothing else.

The baron smiled sardonically at his son. "And where do you hear this, Armand?"

"I pay attention," Armand said confidently. "I may have even heard a man give a speech about it once!"

Several of the ladies had stopped their conversation and were listening to the men. They looked scandalized at Armand's comments and the baron was trying very hard to control his temper.

"Is that so?" he asked quietly. "That certainly did not happen on _my _watch." He never looked at Gabrielle, but she could feel his accusation from across the room. "I think, children, it is past your bedtime. Now excuse yourselves and make your way upstairs."

Armand glared, but obeyed, and bid the guests goodnight. Gabrielle followed the children, her heart pounding. She knew Armand hadn't meant anything by his remarks, but the baron had her in his sights now. There were only so many people who were ever in the company of his children.

When they entered the nursery, Armand turned to her. "I didn't say your name, Mademoiselle Feuilly. I made sure of that. I don't want to get you in trouble."

Gabrielle forced a smile and patted his shoulder, then turned sober. "It's alright, Armand. But your father certainly wasn't happy, and I wouldn't mention this to him again. This is a very serious matter..." Gabrielle trailed off. She knew she wouldn't be able to make a nine year old child understand the gravity of the situation, so there was really no point in trying.

He nodded and shrugged. Gabrielle bid goodnight to the children as their nurse came in and retreated to her own bedroom. She sat in a chair by the window and looked out at the still night. For the first time, she was beginning to feel nervous.

* * *

In two days, both of the children were sick with cholera, despite all of the baron's strict precautions. Gabrielle was not allowed contact with them and was worried incessantly for their well being. She had nothing to do without their lessons to occupy her time, and hadn't seen her brother in what felt like ages. Her anxiety had continued to climb, along with the temperatures in the city. There was a rising tide of discontent it seemed that everyone sensed, like Paris was holding its breath waiting for the first blow to fall. Gabrielle left the baron's house in the afternoon of May 31st and walked to her brother's shop, which she was surprised to find empty and closed. That was unusual, and worrisome.

She slowly wandered the streets, hoping to hear some sort of news or find a familiar face, but after an hour, nothing had turned up. She turned onto the _Rue de la Chanvrerie _off of the _Rue Saint-Denis_ and walked towards the Café Musain. The upstairs window was open and she could see the room was crowded with men. She caught sight of Prouvaire through the window and went into the café and up the stairs.

The men had just arrived, and there were many faces Gabrielle didn't recognize. She squeezed through the crowd, hardly any of them even giving her a second glance, and suddenly felt hands on her arms. "Gabrielle! I was just coming to see you."

She turned to look into her brother's face. He was grinning widely and seemed excited. He pulled her into a less crowded corner and spoke. "We've just had a rally in front of General Lamarque's home. It seems he has taken a turn for the worst. The whole city seems ready to rally." Feuilly was animated, his eyes twinkling and his voice louder than normal.

"So the time is coming soon, then?" Gabrielle asked, surprised at the edge of fear she heard in her voice.

"Yes, I believe so...Enjolras says he is waiting for a sign, a decisive moment that will tell him we are ready to take up arms and fight."

"What sort of sign?"

Feuilly shrugged. "I do not know. I think the men in this room would fight right now, though, were he to ask. Except Grantaire." Gabrielle followed Feuilly's eyes over her shoulder and noticed Monsieur Grantaire slumped over in a chair, snoring loudly. "How can he sleep through this?" He turned his attention back to Gabrielle. "How is it you are able to be here on a Thursday afternoon?"

"Both of the children are sick with the cholera. They came down with it yesterday," she replied. "I'm worried, but I needed to find out the news."

Feuilly clicked his tongue sympathetically. "That is awful...but I am sure they are being cared for by the best doctors that money can buy."

Gabrielle agreed and jumped when a sudden shout went up through the crowd. She turned around to see Enjolras standing on a chair, his hand in the air calling for silence. It took a minute, but the men's fervor finally died down a bit as they waited to hear what he had to say.

"We have been told that General Lamarque is ill," he began softly, and Gabrielle strained to hear. "Thousands throughout the city are sick with cholera. No one is there to care for them. Walk through the streets of _Saint Michel_ and see the bodies being carried away. It is a crime against humanity, my brothers, that the poor are stuck here to rot while the rich are free to escape the plague of the city, running away to the fresh air. Running away from the rising anger they feel from _us."_ The men cheered and Enjolras took a breath, his chest heaving with emotion. He was in his element, the marble lover of liberty, beautiful and terrifying all at once.

"Time has a price we cannot afford! The walls we build close in, my brothers! Will you let yourself be distracted by the glittering jewels of the bourgeois, by the beating drums, and the glare of the sun on our backs? In your heart, do you feel fear? Do you cower away from the bright light of revolution, of liberty, or do you strain towards it, ever reaching and hopeful? It is time for us all to decide who we are, to _stand_, to _rise! The world is on fire,_ my friends, and we will blaze with it, sweeping that fire through the streets of Paris, through France, and leaving behind a free land in its wake!"

Gabrielle took her brother's arm as the crowd surged forward, and he put his arm around her shoulders. "Perhaps you shouldn't be here?" He practically had to yell in her ear to be heard.

"Where else would I be, Alexandre?" She grinned, feeling invigorated. "This is an exciting time!"

Her brother introduced her to some of their newer recruits, including a handsome young man named Marius Pontmercy who had joined their cause in recent months. Gabrielle could tell he came from money by his rich clothing, though her brother claimed her had renounced his family's wealth and wouldn't take a cent from them, living in a broken down tenement somewhere. Gabrielle felt impressed by his dedication.

As the evening wore on, the crowd eventually died out, and Feuilly left to walk his sister home.

She promised to come back when she could, and they parted outside the front gate.

As soon as Gabrielle entered through the servant's door in the back, she could sense something was wrong. The air felt heavy and the house too quiet, and she immediately felt an uneasy lump form in her stomach. She cautiously walked through the house and stopped in front of the parlour door, which was firmly closed. It was never closed. She heard footsteps behind her and turned. The children's nursemaid was just coming down the stairs, her eyes red and heavy from crying.

"What has happened?" Gabrielle whispered.

The nurse held a handkerchief to her eyes and dabbed. "Mademoiselle Louisa has gone home to God," she said softly, and burst out into a fresh fit of tears.

Gabrielle took a step back, her hand flying to her mouth. She had never expected...had never thought...

The nurse passed by her and Gabrielle stood frozen. She wasn't sure how long she stood in the hallway, but her trance was finally broken by the clock striking eight times, and she moved in a daze upstairs to her bedroom. She laid down on her bed fully clothed, her eyes painfully dry, and tried to fathom why a merciful God would take an innocent little girl. Eventually, she fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

When she awoke the next morning, the house was still eerily quiet. Everyone had entered into mourning, and Gabrielle wondered if Armand had survived the night. She desperately hoped he had.

She rose and freshened up before descending the stairs. There was absolutely no one around, and the parlour door was still firmly closed. Gabrielle wondered if the baron had shut himself up in the room with his daughter's body, and her thoughts were confirmed when she entered the kitchen, where she also learned that Armand was still clinging to life.

She didn't feel right leaving the house, and wandered back upstairs to her bedroom, where she spent the day in a melancholy spirit, staring out of the window listlessly. The energy that had invaded her body yesterday at the Café Musain had drained out of her at the news of Louisa's death. She only went back downstairs for a late supper, and to see if anything else had happened today out on the streets.

When she entered the kitchen, the cooks were gossiping quietly at the table and Gabrielle fixed her own small supper. Before she went back upstairs, she asked softly, "Have you heard news today? Has anything happened in the city?"

They stopped their conversation and one said sadly, "Yes, Mademoiselle. General Lamarque died this afternoon. We heard the news from the butler next door, who heard it from their errand boy earlier this evening."

Gabrielle froze, her blood turning to ice. "General Lamarque is dead?"

The ladies nodded, and one said timidly, "Are you alright, Mademoiselle? You look as if you've suddenly seen a ghost..."

"My brother," she said without thinking, "he will be ready to fight..." She realized what she had just let slip out and stopped, biting her lip. _You stupid girl!_ She shouted in her head. _How could you tell them that? Soon every servant on the street will know!_

The cooks didn't respond and Gabrielle quickly went back upstairs, where she hastily ate her dinner. She debated on whether or not to go to the café, but finally decided it was worth the risk. What if the fighting began tomorrow and she didn't have time to speak to her brother first? _God, what if I never see him again?_ She wondered, suddenly horrified. The reality was finally sinking in, and Gabrielle hurried from the house, hailing a _fiacre_ to take her to the Musain.

She ran up the stairs breathlessly and burst into the room. There were arms and ammunition everywhere, the men loading muskets and pistols and looking like they were having a perfectly normal good time.

"Mademoiselle Feuilly?" Enjolras appeared at her side.

"Hello, Monsieur," Gabrielle turned and managed a small smile. "I see your revolution is finally beginning."

Enjolras seemed to grow taller as he took a breath and rolled his sleeves up. "At last." He paused for a moment, then took her arm and led her back downstairs. "Your brother is down here this evening, Mademoiselle, if he is still here...he talked of going to find you earlier."

As they descended the stairs, Gabrielle scanned the room and saw her brother in the corner. "Alexandre!"

Feuilly looked up and saw his sister, a warm smile spreading across his face. "I was wondering if we would see you here tonight." He frowned as he took in Gabrielle's expression. "Come, Gabrielle, what is wrong? You aren't suddenly afraid of our revolution, are you? You, who wanted to fight with us before?"

"Of course I am afraid. Any sensible person would be. And..." she swallowed around the lump in her throat. "Louisa de Sauveterre is dead."

Her brother's face fell and he quickly reached out and pulled her into a hug. "I'm so sorry, Gabrielle. That is horrible news, to hear of one so young being taken so soon."

"I'm very sorry to hear that as well, Gabrielle." Gabrielle raised her eyes to see Enjolras still standing with them. "The cholera is taking many victims this year."

Gabrielle forced a smile. "Thank you both. I am fine, really, just sad. And worried, if I must admit it."

"This is where I must leave you," Enjolras said. "It has been a pleasure as always, Gabrielle."

"Good night, Antoine." Gabrielle watched him go back up the stairs and then turned back to find her brother gazing at her in disbelief. "What?" she asked innocently.

"Did you just call him _Antoine?_"

"That is his name, is it not?"

Feuilly cleared his throat and said nothing for a moment, then took her hand and began leading her to the door. "Let us talk outside Gabrielle, away from this crowd and noise."

Once they were outside, Feuilly turned to face her and took a deep breath. "Gabrielle, I don't quite know what to say...the fight is going to begin in a few days..."

"When?"

"At General Lamarque's funeral. That's when Enjolras has it planned."

"Oh." Gabrielle nodded and steeled herself. "When will it be?"

"June 5th. Just a few days. And we're going to be quite busy until then, Gabrielle, and..." he hesitated, as if knowing she was going to protest, "I think you should stay away from here on out." He held up a hand as she opened her mouth to argue and said gently, "_Please_, Gabrielle, listen."

She closed her mouth and nodded tersely, staring at the ground.

"I know you spoke to Enjolras about fighting with us, I remember, and I didn't take it seriously at the time, though I wouldn't really put it past you. Please promise me, Gabrielle, that you _will not come here_. I don't even want you to leave the house until all of this is over."

She raised her eyes, pleading with him. "And what about you? I am just supposed to sit back and wait and wonder while my only family is..." she couldn't finish the thought.

"You have to," Feuilly said quietly. "I need to know you are safe. I have fought to give you a better life, and I do not want you throwing it away for my sake."

"I wouldn't be throwing it away. I would be fighting for the same reasons you are!"

"Still." Feuilly sighed and said seriously, "I have already made Enjolras promise not to let you near anyway. He agreed with me, so there is no use going to him to try to intercede."

Gabrielle frowned. "It will kill me to not know what is happening to you."

"And if I die, I die knowing you are safe, which means I die happy." Feuilly smiled and took her hands.

Gabrielle's eyes filled with tears. "Please don't talk of dying. What would I do without you?"

Feuilly reached up and brushed her tears away. "You will be fine. You are smart and resourceful. You are beautiful. You will find every happiness, Gabrielle." She suddenly felt a small purse being thrust into her hands. "Here, take this. This is all the money I have saved."

"_No_, Alexandre, that is too final. You are already talking like a condemned man!" She pushed it back at him, but he firmly held her hand closed around it.

"Then you are keeping it safe for me until everything is over," he said softly. "Please take it, Gabrielle."

She nodded slowly and swiped at her tears. She hated crying. "Alright."

Feuilly took a deep breath, fighting emotion himself, and pulled her gently to him. He kissed the top of her head and said softly, "You are the most wonderful sister a man could ask for. And now you need to go."

Gabrielle could hear the emotion in his voice, and she knew he didn't want her to see him cry. She nodded and reached up, kissing his cheek gently. "I love you, Alexandre. Please stay safe for me."

He squeezed her hands and pulled away, looking at her for a lingering moment before turning and going back into the café. Gabrielle watched until he disappeared and then slowly turned, her steps echoing in the empty street. She looked over her shoulder to see the lights of Musain burning brightly on the pavement. Enjolras stood in the window on the second floor, his arms crossed over his chest, and watched her go. Their eyes met and he raised a hand in a silent goodbye. She managed a small smile before turning away again. _Good luck, Monsieur..._

* * *

**Reviews are always appreciated, both good and bad. Thanks!**


	4. Chapter IV

Chapter IV

The next few days passed agonizingly slow. They were long and miserable; first, little Louisa's funeral, and then the incessant waiting. It was never-ending and horrible. June 1st, June 2nd, June 3rd, June 4th, and finally...June 5th.

Gabrielle spoke to no one and didn't leave her room. She sat at the open window and stared, wondering what was happening, feeling restless and exhausted at the same time. When the afternoon came, Gabrielle knew the fight would be starting, and imagined her brother following the funeral procession, Enjolras waving the red flag of liberty, the men on the barricade with guns and swords ready.

The afternoon soon faded into evening, and darkness fell over Paris. She had had no word and was seriously contemplating breaking her promise to her brother when a small and lonely figure suddenly came into view, stopping in front of the house. He stared up at it's facade, as if trying to decide whether it was the right one or not, and as the moonlight hit his face, Gabrielle sat forward. She recognized him – she had seem him with the _Les Amis_ before, the little _gamin_ that followed them all around.

She stood and ran down the stairs and out the front door. He gave a toothy grin when he saw her and bowed gallantly. "Good evening! Are you Feuilly's sister?"

Gabrielle nodded. "Yes. Who are you?"

"Gavroche. I've come from the barricade! Your brother sent you a letter." He held both hands out, expecting payment, and Gabrielle gladly gave him a few sous in exchange for the letter.

"Tell me, Gavroche, what is happening there? Are they alright? Has there been much fighting?"

"There's been a little, but they're not going to lick us!"

Gabrielle smiled. "Gavroche, if you come back again before dawn to tell me more news, I promise you will be well rewarded."

The young _gamin_ grinned. "Sure. Enjolras has me running all over Paris, anyway, checking the other barricades. And now I have to go deliver another letter for Monsieur Marius. They think I'm their regular messenger, they do..."

Gabrielle pressed another sous into his hand. "Get to it, then, Gavroche. And stay safe tonight."

The little boy turned and continued his way down the street. He had seemed in good spirits, so perhaps things were going well. Gabrielle clutched the letter to her breast and hurried back inside. Once she was safely in her room, she opened the paper and read hungrily.

_Dearest Gabrielle,_

_ The fighting has begun. We are on the Rue de la Chanvrerie, in front of the Musain, and have built an enormous barricade. There has been a little fighting, but only one casualty so far, a girl maybe your age or perhaps even younger, that followed Marius. Pray for her soul, Gabrielle, for she saved Marius' life with her own. She was truly selfless._

_ Enjolras is rallying everyone with his speeches, Grantaire and Courfeyrac are drunk (as usual) and now we wait for the soldiers to make their next move. We are lucky to have little Gavroche here. I know you will be grateful to him for getting word to you. Please rest easy tonight and keep your promise to me. I will try to send word again if I can. _

_ Your loving brother_

The letter did ease Gabrielle's mind...for about an hour. Then the restless energy came back, and her imagination ran wild. Events could change in only minutes, she knew, and what had happened since little Gavroche was here? Gabrielle spent the hours pacing restlessly and wringing her hands, but her eyes were dry.

The hours crept by, and Gabrielle knew dawn would soon be approaching. She kept her eyes trained on the street, hoping Gavroche would soon appear and ease her mind again, and suddenly, he popped up in front of the front gate. She hadn't even seen him approach, he was as stealthy as a cat.

Gabrielle went downstairs again, trying to be quiet, and met him at the edge of the yard. Her heart constricted when she saw the look on his face; instead of his confident smile, he looked almost grave.

"Gavroche?" she whispered.

"My news isn't so good this time, Mademoiselle. I've just been through the streets..."

"And?" Fear was settling in her chest and making it hard to breathe.

"The other barricades...they're gone. Our boys are the only ones left." He scuffed his worn shoe on the sidewalk and sighed.

"The only ones? How...how can that be? Enjolras said..." she sucked in a breath and leaned against the iron fence.

"...that the people would rise, yeah. Well. They ain't," Gavroche said irritably. "I don't mean to bring bad news, but you did ask me to come back. But now I need to go report to Monsieur Enjolras." He stuck his hand through the bars, patiently waiting for his payment, and Gabrielle gave him all she had on her. His face lit up as he took in the money and his step was a bit more animated as he thanked her walked away.

"Be careful, Gavroche!" she whispered after him, and he lifted a hand and waved as he ran away.

Gabrielle slowly made her way inside and climbed the stairs. She had just made it to the top when the weight of Gavroche's words fell on her shoulders. A tight panic gripped her, squeezing her insides. They were all there, alone at the barricade, and the people were not rising as Enjolras said they would. No one was there to help.

What would become of them, those boys at the barricade?

They would all die.

Gabrielle gathered her skirts in her hands, hesitating for only the briefest of moments, before flying down the stairs. She grabbed her shawl from the hook near the doorway and was prepared to flee into the night, to her brother and the other _Les Amis_, when a voice stopped her.

"Mademoiselle, where in the world are you going at this hour? And with all of the unrest tonight..."

Her hand frozen on the knob, Gabrielle slowly turned to face the baron. "Monsieur, my brother is there. At the barricade on the _Rue de la Chanvrerie_." Her voice trembled.

A cloud passed over the baron's face. "Your brother? The fanmaker?"

Gabrielle nodded tersely and the baron continued. "Mademoiselle Feuilly, of course I cannot force you to stay. But what do you expect to gain by going, may I ask?"

"I don't know. I just...I just feel I should be there. He is my only family," she added desperately.

The baron took a step towards her. "Of course you feel loyalty, Mademoiselle, but think logically. How would you get there? The streets are dangerous at this hour and no one is about tonight. How would you even make it to the barricade? Once there, what will you do? Take up arms and fight yourself? I somehow doubt that is what your brother would want." All the time he spoke, the baron had gently taken her arm and led her into the parlour.

She stared at his face as she sank down into a soft sofa and silently accepted the glass of wine he gave her. The baron's words made sense, of course, but she still felt a fire in her veins urging her to move, to do something. Gabrielle was not one to be idle.

"Now, do I not speak the truth, dear Mademoiselle?" the baron asked, as if he were talking to a dog or trying to reason with a small child. As a woman, she was no better to him than a small child.

Still, there was some truth in his words. She had promised her brother she would stay away, and she never broke promises.

"You speak truly, Monsieur. I will not leave the house this night," she said resignedly.

"No. Better yet, not until the fighting is over. Now," the baron stood and adjusted his coat. "It is late, Mademoiselle, or early, rather, and I suggest you try to get some sleep while you can. I bid you good night."

"Good night, Gabrielle replied quietly, and watched his form retreat up the stairs.

_Sleep!_ She scoffed. As if she would get any sleep tonight. The wine was making her feel more relaxed, however, so she poured herself another glass and resigned herself to keeping a silent vigil by the window in her room until the morning. It faced in the direction of _Les Halles_ and the _Rue St. Denis_. Perhaps if she opened it, she could even hear.

Gabrielle slowly ascended the stairs and entered her bedroom, settling into her chair by the window once more. When tomorrow dawned, what would it bring? The same world of darkness and monarchy, or the new republic her brother and Enjolras dreamed of? In only hours, they would all know.

* * *

Gabrielle must have dozed, but in what seemed like only minutes, she was awoken by an echoing boom. In her groggy state, she immediately looked at the sky expecting to see a storm, but while their were clouds, there was no rain.

She stood and leaned as far out the window as she could, straining towards _Les Halles._ There it was again, a faint crash that sounded like thunder, only a bit weaker. It took her a moment before she suddenly realized. _A cannon! They are firing cannons!_

Her chest felt so tight with fear she could barely breathe. Gabrielle closed her eyes and began to pray. There was nothing else she could do.

Only an hour later, the sounds had stopped and the sun began to rise in the eastern sky. It seemed a day like any other from her window vantage point, except for the eerily quiet streets. It seemed like most people were staying inside until official news of the outcome reached them, but Gabrielle was so anxious she could barely stand to sit anymore.

She rose, and with one last glance out the window, left the house to meet the new day.

* * *

Gabrielle steeled herself as she neared the _Rue de la Chanvrerie_. The streets were empty, most shutters still closed on the homes and businesses that lined the streets. No, it did not seem the people had risen. Instead, they had shut themselves away inside their walls, shying away from the gunfire that could have brought them a better tomorrow had they been brave enough to join. If she were a child, she would have been tempted to throw rocks at the closed windows and scream at the cowards.

Instead, she kept walking, though it took all of her strength to keep one foot moving in front of the other. If she never went, if she never saw, she could pretend it never happened. She almost couldn't bear the thought of seeing her brother's body dead and broken, but then, not seeing it seemed almost as unbearable. And there was always the smallest chance that he was alive...

She was only a street away now and there were soldiers milling about. She hesitated as she saw a larger group of them up ahead, blocking the way onto the street. Gabrielle raised her head and continued walking. The soldiers soon caught sight of her and a young sergeant stepped into her path.

"Good morning, Mademoiselle. I'm afraid I must stop you here. There was fighting in this street only a few hours ago, and it is still too gruesome a sight for a young lady to see." He tipped his hat, expecting her to simply walk away, but she stayed rooted down.

"Yes, Monsieur, I am aware, and I intend to pass. My brother..." she swallowed around the lump in her throat. "My brother was fighting here, and I would like to...to see..."

She hesitated as a soft wind suddenly blew, bringing with it the already present scent of death and the tangy iron smell of spilled blood.

The soldier frowned. "I am sorry, Mademoiselle. Do you mean your brother is a soldier?"

Gabrielle hesitated, but shook her head slowly. "No. No, he was not. I intend to find his body, if it is there, Monsieur. He is my only family," she added, hoping the soldier would sympathize with a pretty, lonely young woman.

The soldier shifted uncomfortably. "I suppose I could let you pass. Would you like an escort, Mademoiselle?"

"Thank you. And no, I prefer to go alone." With a sad smile of gratitude, Gabrielle moved past the soldiers and onto the street. Almost immediately, she was overtaken by the strong stench of death. The rain that had fallen in the night left puddles scattered along the street, tinged red with blood. Gabrielle raised a handkerchief to her mouth and slowed her pace as she began passing by the first fallen soldiers. Only a short way down the street, the barricade was already being disassembled.

Behind the barricade stood the dilapidated Café Musain, where she had spent so many nights listening to her brother and his friends speak of their revolution; where her own views on the equality and education of women had been heard and even championed by Enjolras. Where their had been drinks, laughter, friendship, and the deep passion born of a common cause.

Gabrielle's eyes strayed up the facade and froze on the second story window. Her handkerchief fluttered to the ground as she stared in horror. Enjolras, his body beautifully broken, was hanging from the window, the red flag of revolution still gripped tightly in his hand. She was too shocked to even cry out, but realized her body had begun trembling violently. That beautiful, passionate man. He had given everything to his cause, to his _Patria_. And this is how she thanked him.

As Gabrielle stood watching, two men began to gently move Enjolras' body inside the café_._ She quickly turned away, tears finally blurring in her eyes, and then noticed the row of bodies being laid side by side in the street. Oh, so many of them. Too many she knew. Too many she loved. Did she have anything left now?

There was little Gavroche! And Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Bahorel...almost all of the _Les Amis_. But where was her brother? His body was not with the rest.

She turned, a mad hope springing to life inside of her. Maybe he had escaped! Maybe he wasn't here! A flash of blue from a corner of the barricade caught her eye, and there she saw what she had been dreading to see. There he was, still sprawled, lifeless, on the barricade, covered in blood. Gabrielle stifled a cry and closed her eyes. She counted to ten as she had told little Louisa to do, then looked up at the sky, anywhere but at her brother. She began saying a silent prayer for his soul, but stopped as the men who removed Enjolras from the window came outside, grunting with the effort of carrying his still form. They laid him next to the rest of the bodies, the red flag still trailing from his hand.

Gabrielle suddenly felt an irrational sense of anger at Enjolras, for his perfect, impassioned speeches and inspiring leadership. Yes, his friends had all shared his beliefs, had been willing to die for them, but were it not for him, they never would have acted on them in such a manner. Before she knew it, Gabrielle was standing next to his body, then kneeling on the blood-soaked cobblestones. She knew the anger she felt was silly and petty. He was dead, too, after all. His friends had their chance to walk away and they had all chosen to stay and fight. And die.

At least they had died honorably. Gabrielle slowly reached out for the red flag, gently taking Enjolras' hand and coaxing the fabric from his stiff fingers. She intended to lay it across his body, but as she carefully placed his hand on his chest, she abruptly froze and stared at his face. She could have sworn she had just heard a soft moan pass from his lips. Quickly looking around to see if anyone else was paying attention, for Gabrielle had no idea who was friend or foe at the moment, she leaned down and placed her cheek close to his mouth. The lightest of breath fluttered against her cheek, but she might have wanted to feel it so badly she willed it into being. Even though his shirt was blood-soaked and dirty, she gently laid her cheek against his heart, the picture of grief, weeping over a fallen love, to any passerby. She waited, hoping to hear or feel the faintest whisper of a heartbeat...and there! There it was. He was alive. Against all odds, Antoine Enjolras was alive.

Her heart beating wildly in her chest, Gabrielle sat up slowly. Her fingers and toes began tingling as a new, vigorous energy coursed through her body. How could he be alive in this wasteland of bodies, with all of his other friends dead? It seemed impossible, but then, he was an absolutely impossible man. And, if she didn't do something soon, he would surely die. Perhaps he would anyway, but she had to try.

Asking the soldiers for help was out of the question. They would just shoot him (again). But would they object to her taking her brother's body away to be buried in his own family plot? She didn't know, but it was worth trying. Maybe they would say nothing at all. Of course, claiming Enjolras as her brother would mean leaving her true brother's body behind...but Gabrielle felt no real hesitation. Her brother would urge her to save his friend's life if it was in her power to do so.

But how would she get him out of here? He was so near death already she was afraid to move him. Gabrielle surveyed the barricade; since her arrival, a few other men had appeared, all of whom were slowly untangling the mess of broken furniture that made up the ramshackle structure.

Two men had brought a hand-cart, large enough to fit Enjolras' body, and were slowly filling it with debris. Gabrielle jumped up with a new sense of purpose and hurried over to the two men.

"Monsieurs, please! I can pay you. Will you use your cart to transport my brother's body to our home? Please, good Monsieur's, I beg of you..." Gabrielle didn't have to fake the tears welling up in her eyes.

The two men looked uncomfortable and the shorter, balder of the two spoke quietly. "Well, Mademoiselle, I would be happy to help you, but I just don't know if it is possible..." His eyes shifted to the soldiers.

"How much are they paying you? I will double the sum," Gabrielle said boldly. She hoped she had enough.

"I dare say 5 francs a piece will be enough," the other man said gruffly.

There was no doubt they were being paid less than that total, but Gabrielle couldn't care less.

"Done. Please, hurry. I don't wish to be here any longer," Gabrielle said tearfully.

The men followed her over to Enjolras' body with their cart. She had no time to check if he even was indeed still alive. "Be gentle," she murmured as they carefully lifted his body and placed it in the cart. She said a prayer that he would not cry out or move on the short journey to his apartment.

Gabrielle told the men Enjolras' address, which thankfully, was very close to the Café Musain. Once there, she had no idea how she would get his body up the stairs and into his apartment. Hopefully, his landlady would be there to let them in.

And then, what would she do about a doctor? Well...one step at a time.

The strange little group slowly began heading down the street and away from the barricade. Gabrielle looked back at the gruesome scene one more time and touched her fingers to her lips in a silent farewell to her brother and his loyal friends. They were all such good, brave young men. She believed all of them would have done such good in the world and for their country had they lived long enough. All of them had mothers, fathers, lovers, that they were leaving behind. They all had loved ones who would miss them, whose lives would never be the same without them in it. Yet, most of Paris would probably forget their failed little revolution within the month. Gabrielle turned away, feeling sick to her stomach. It was better not to think right now; just concentrate on the moment.

The soldiers barely glanced at them as they moved past and Gabrielle was grateful. She didn't think she had the energy to beg and grovel. They must not think any of the schoolboys important enough to bother with in death.

Every time the cart hit a bump in the uneven street, Gabrielle cringed. Enjolras never stirred, though, and once again, Gabrielle wondered if he was still alive. She walked next to the cart, her hand resting lightly on the side, and was thankful that the streets were still mostly deserted. Those that were about only looked at them with a frown, but no one spoke, including the two men. Soon, they arrived in front of Enjolras' building and Gabrielle looked up uncertainly, weighing her options.

Suddenly, the door opened and a most unexpected figure stepped out.

"Monsieur Joly!" Gabrielle shrieked. "Oh, Joly, you are alive! Enjolras is..." she gestured to the cart, but was afraid to say more.

Joly started at her cry and stared at her. He was a filthy, bloody mess. He looked like he had been through ten battles and fought for months, his eyes raw and red-rimmed and cheeks sunken in. He silently surveyed Enjolras and the men, his chest heaving. Gabrielle quickly moved towards him and whispered urgently, "He was alive when I arrived at the barricade, but only just. These men think he is dead...he might be by now..." she trailed off.

Still, Joly said nothing, only nodded tersely. After a moment, he finally spoke. "Follow me, Monsieur's. We will carry him up the stairs to his rooms."

Gabrielle stepped back and allowed the men to do their work. Soon, they were standing outside Enjolras' door. It was unlocked and opened easily at Gabrielle's touch, and the men carefully laid Enjolras on the bed in the corner of the bedroom. Gabrielle hastily took the agreed upon money out of her purse and handed it to the men, along with her thanks.

As soon as they were gone, Joly began to check Enjolras for signs of life. Gabrielle stood just inside the bedroom doorway wringing her hands and hoping...

After what seemed like hours, Joly turned to Gabrielle and said quickly, "Fetch water. I'm going to get my things." In a second, he was gone, sprinting down the stairs. Gabrielle had no idea where Joly's things were, or even how he was alive himself, but guessed that meant that Enjolras had made it. She quickly set about her task, still careful to keep her mind free from all thoughts save those on what she was doing. She couldn't stand to think now.

Soon, Joly and a woman Gabrielle didn't know were back in the apartment. Joly set to work on his friend with the woman's help and Gabrielle sank into a hard wooden chair at a small table in the front room. She didn't speak, and tried not even to watch through the open doorway. The earlier rush of energy that had come with finding Enjolras alive had faded and she was beginning to feel exhausted.

And the sadness was becoming unbearable.

She didn't know how long it had been when Joly was finally done. They were all so quiet. She supposed no one knew what to say or how to begin.

Gabrielle finally met Joly's eyes as he tried to clean Enjolras' blood off his hands with a rag. "Will he live?"

"I do not know. He has four bullet wounds, three of which passed straight through him. He was fired upon at close range and can't be left alone. We will have to tend to him constantly." Joly swallowed hard and asked in a quieter tone, "Were there any others? Anyone else you saw alive?"

Gabrielle shook her head. "No. Everyone was...my brother..." she stopped, a sudden thought occurring to her. "Monsieur Marius. I did not see him..."

A small spark ignited in Joly's eyes. "Perhaps he made it out, as well. We can only pray." The woman squeezed his arm in comfort, then looked sadly at Gabrielle.

"I am sorry about your brother, Mademoiselle Feuilly. My name is Musichetta. I am a friend of Joly's and..." Musichetta choked a bit and couldn't finish her sentence.

"And Bossuet," Joly said sadly. He took her hand and pressed it to his lips, and Gabrielle guessed that the two of them were involved.

"Thank you. But please, tell me what to do to help Enjolras. What does he need?"

Joly looked surprised. "Don't you need to get back home, Mademoiselle? To your job?"

"I suppose I do," she muttered. "But I am coming back. My brother would want me to care for his friends, as he would," she said firmly. "I do not want to abandon Enjolras in his hour of need."

Joly nodded and reached out to shake her hand. "I understand, Mademoiselle. Thank you for bringing him back here. Musichetta and I will care for him until your return."

Gabrielle managed a small smile and stood. She looked back once at Enjolras' still form before she left the apartment and ran all the way back to the de Sauveterre house. Running kept her tears at bay. She knew she looked frightful, but perhaps she would be able to sneak in and change.

She had no such luck, however, for the children's nursemaid was just coming down the back staircase as Gabrielle opened the kitchen door and stepped inside. Her eyes grew big as saucers and she let out a loud shriek. "_Mon dieu!_ You are covered in blood, Governess!"

Gabrielle winced, horrified, as the butler appeared in the doorway and gasped at the sight of her. There would be a scene, the rest of the servants would talk about her incessantly, and then word would spread like wildfire about the appearance of the de Sauveterre's governess. They would put it together and know she was somehow connected to the barricade, and the other _bourgeois _friends of the baron would not be happy to associate with someone who employed a _Republican._ She would lose her job, as she had already lost her brother. What would she do?

_Stop it,_ she told herself. _You aren't thinking clearly, you can explain..._

"Are you hurt, Mademoiselle Feuilly?"

"Oh, no! No, I am fine, I promise..." The butler had already taken her arm and was dragging her towards the parlour, ignoring her words.

They stopped in the doorway. "Monsieur?" the butler interrupted the baron's reading. "I believe we may need to call a doctor for Mademoiselle Feuilly."

The baron's eyes widened as he caught sight of Gabrielle's blood-soaked skirt and hands. "Mademoiselle Feuilly? Are you hurt?" She frantically shook her head and was about to reply when the baron asked coldly, "Do I even need to ask where you have foolishly been this morning?"

"No, Monsieur." She took a deep breath and continued, "You know where I have come from. I needed to see for myself."

"And what did you see, Mademoiselle? That your brother and his nonsensical friends gave their lives for _nothing?_" the baron spat. His eyes narrowed. "They deserved what they got, Mademoiselle, and I do not want any of their _Republican nonsense _being taught to Armand. I cannot believe you dared to enter my house in such a state, to alarm innocent people who have no idea what is happening outside their doors. _No more, Mademoiselle. _Do you understand?"

The baron was not used to anyone disagreeing, and took a step back when Gabrielle said fiercely and without any thought, "I resign from my position. I will take my leave at once."

He spluttered behind her as she spun on her heel and stalked up the stairs, her blood boiling. Her brother had not died for nothing – he had died for what he believed in: a better tomorrow, an equal chance for everyone to progress and thrive through hard work and education. No, he had not died for nothing, but for an honorable dream. Gabrielle would not stay employed by a man who looked down so on her brother's sacrifice, who was content to keep others suffering at the bottom of the heap while he rose to the top.

Gabrielle packed quickly, and was happy for once that she had so few belongings. She carried her things back to Enjolras' and ascended the steps, stopping at the landing outside of his door. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, feeling tears sting her cheeks. What had she done? What would become of her now?

* * *

**Thank you so much to everyone who has added the story to their favorites and taken the time to review. I'm glad you're giving it a chance, even though it's a little bit different and I'm taking quite a few liberties!**

**Also. AARON TVEIT ON THE OSCARS. Aaronjolras freaking OWNED that stage. :) **


	5. Chapter V

Chapter V

Gabrielle knocked on the door to Enjolras' apartment and Musichetta opened it to let her inside. Her eyebrows rose as she took in Gabrielle's valise. "How long are you planning on staying, Mademoiselle?"

Gabrielle shifted uncomfortably. "I...well...I didn't think." She felt her eyes filling with tears again and hastily wiped them away. She hated to appear weak.

"What happened, Mademoiselle Feuilly?" Joly appeared behind Musichetta and reached out for her things. He had bathed and changed in the time it took Gabrielle to get to the baron's and back, though he still looked like a defeated man.

"The baron, he...he was so insulting, and my temper..." she shrugged and looked at the floor. "I resigned from my position. I...God, what will I do? No one will take me as a governess now, he will turn everyone against me!" She heard the hysterical tone to her voice and snapped her mouth closed, embarrassed. She had to pull herself together.

Musichetta sighed and took her hand, leading her away from the apartment. "Come, Mademoiselle, you need a bath and a good meal. Joly, stay with Enjolras."

Gabrielle meekly followed Musichetta. Her mind was racing, replaying the horrific things she had seen at the barricade, her brother's body twisted and bloodied... She said nothing as her bath was prepared, and let Musichetta help her undress. She gratefully sank into the water and mechanically began scrubbing the blood and dirt from her skin. The automatic movement helped to clear her mind, and she did indeed feel a bit better after she had dressed in fresh clothing and had some hot soup, courtesy of Musichetta, whom she found lived two floors below Enjolras.

Gabrielle sat at Musichetta's table and sipped her soup quietly. Musichetta was studying her and it made Gabrielle uncomfortable. "How did Monsieur Joly get away, Musichetta?" she finally asked.

"When Enjolras realized they were all lost, he sent some men away from the barricade, hoping to spare a few lives. He sent Joly because he hoped some more men would survive, and supposed they would need a doctor."

"That was smart," Gabrielle replied. "Though I doubt he planned on surviving himself."

"He may not yet," Musichetta reminded her gently. "Let's not count our chickens before they hatch."

They were quiet for several more minutes before Gabrielle said hesitantly, "I...I am sorry. About Bossuet. He was a good man."

Musichetta looked away, gritting her teeth. "He was." She rose from her chair, avoiding Gabrielle's eyes, and took the empty bowl of soup away. Gabrielle followed Musichetta back upstairs without a sound.

The apartment was quiet, and Joly had fallen asleep on the small sofa. Even in sleep, he looked sad and broken, and Gabrielle's heart ached for him. What must it be like, to lose not just a brother, as Gabrielle had, but almost all of your closest friends and companions?

Musichetta kissed the top of his head fondly and went into the bedroom to check on Enjolras. Gabrielle followed her, feeling more than a little lost. Enjolras laid on the bed, still unmoving, but Gabrielle could see the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Joly had removed his shirt and wrapped his wounds in bandages. His skin was pallid and a fine sheen of sweat covered his face and chest. He didn't look good. Musichetta laid a hand on his head and sighed. "He has a fever. Joly said if he developed one, that was a sign of infection."

"What do we do?" Gabrielle asked fearfully.

"We can do nothing but wait."

* * *

Gabrielle, Joly, and Musichetta took turns staying with Enjolras over the next few days. Joly kept giving him what little medicine he had, and turned to trying some of the herbal remedies he had researched on his own in medical school. He didn't mention to the women that Enjolras was the first _living _patient he had ever had, considering his schooling was nowhere near complete. Taking care of Enjolras helped him keep his own memories at bay, and Joly was determined to keep Enjolras alive. He couldn't stand the thought of losing him now, after having Enjolras miraculously appear on the doorstep clinging to life.

Enjolras lingered at the edge of consciousness most of the time, whispering feverish orders as if he was still fighting at the barricade, and moaning whenever Joly checked his wounds and applied the poultice he had made. He looked tormented by pain and grief, haunted even in his dreams. Sometimes he whispered their names, the other members of the _Les Amis_, and Gabrielle would grip his hand, trying to let him know that he was not alone. She knew that it was not enough.

On the third night, Gabrielle dozed next to the bed off and on, and there was no change in Enjolras. She jerked awake and rose as the first rays of sun were beginning to peek through the window next to the bed, illuminating Enjolras' body in a soft light. Gabrielle reached over and rested her hand on his forehead, surprised to find his skin cool to the touch. A whisper of hope drifted through her and she gently unwound the bandage from Enjolras' shoulder. The stitches holding the bullet wound closed were holding nicely, and the skin around the injury was no longer red and swollen as it had been earlier. It seemed the infection was being successfully combatted, though Gabrielle knew Enjolras still had a long way to go.

She gently held his head up and tipped some water from a cup on the nightstand into his mouth. He swallowed reflexively and Gabrielle lowered his head back to the pillows. Even in his helpless state, Gabrielle still thought he was an impressive and imposing figure. Perhaps it was just because she knew him.

Seeking a drink of water herself, Gabrielle walked into the front room and poured a little water into the only other cup in the whole apartment. It was obvious Enjolras lived as a bachelor, Gabrielle thought. There were no feminine touches, no decorations or flowers...just books. Gabrielle thought he must have hundreds of books scattered around. With nothing else to do, she began to tidy them, fitting what she could onto his two sturdy bookshelves and stacking the rest next to the wall with their spines out. Other than that, though, his apartment was spotless – his clothes packed neatly away in the wardrobe in the bedroom and the desk organized meticulously. Gabrielle wasn't really surprised by the fact that he was a neat individual, but she did have the urge to brighten the modest apartment up. He needed a painting or a comfortable rug on the floor, _something _to bring a little bit of color in. It wasn't her place, though, even if she did find it a bit depressing. Still, cleaning helped keep her own grief in check. Moving meant not having to think.

With nothing left to do, she walked back into the bedroom, but stopped short in the doorway. Enjolras hadn't moved, but his eyes were fully open and looking right at her, clear and knowing as ever.

"You're awake." Gabrielle moved into the bedroom tentatively and his eyes followed her. He didn't speak. "How...how do you feel? Would you like some water? Or food? Or maybe you should sleep more? Or I should get Joly..."

"Gabrielle," he interrupted her quietly, his voice rough with disuse. "What am I doing here?"

Her brow furrowed and she sat back down in the chair, leaning towards him. She fought the urge to take his hand. "What do you mean? This is your apartment..."

"I thought..." he shook his head slightly and winced at the movement, but continued. "I thought I was dead..."

"No." Gabrielle did take his hand this time and squeezed it gently. "You are alive, Antoine." _But your friends are dead_... Gabrielle didn't know how to say this.

Enjolras swallowed, his eyes growing a bit frantic. "How did I get here?"

"I found you at the barricade."

His grip tightened on her hand and Gabrielle stroked his arm soothingly. She knew it probably wasn't good for him to get upset in his fragile state, but she didn't know how to avoid it.

His eyes flashed. "You were there? Feuilly told you stay away."

"In the morning, after..." she swallowed and closed her eyes against the images invading her vision.

"You shouldn't have been there," he said fiercely. "You had no place seeing...seeing that."

Gabrielle opened her eyes and snapped back, "Well it is good for you I was. You were barely alive and I got you back here to Monsieur Joly."

Enjolras' jaw tightened as he looked at her. "You should have let me die," he whispered, and then turned his head away, refusing to look at her or speak anymore.

Gabrielle sat holding his hand for several minutes, refusing to leave him alone in his grief. Her chest was tight with unshed tears and she knew Enjolras must feel the weight of the world on his back. She didn't know if he had really fallen asleep again or was just faking, but his eyes had closed and he was still. Finally, Gabrielle rose and reluctantly let go of his hand, retreating from the bedroom. She went downstairs to Musichetta's and knocked, letting Joly know what had just happened.

Joly flew up the stairs to examine his friend and Gabrielle wandered downstairs and out the door. She aimlessly walked the streets until she found herself in front of her brother's shop, feeling lost and indescribably sad. She hadn't even thought about the shop since the barricade, she had been too busy taking care of Enjolras, but all of Feuilly's materials and un-sold fans were shut away inside. She had no key, and no way to remove his things; when his rent wasn't paid, the owner of the building would either throw everything away or sell it himself for a profit. Gabrielle's fists tightened as she stared at the beautiful fans in the window.

Her favorite showed an intricate scene of the Greek God Orpheus reclining next to a pool with his lyre, charming the water nymphs with his music. The details in the painting were remarkable, painstakingly and lovingly painted on the delicate silk, the colors blending together in soft blues, greens, and pinks. Gabrielle wished more than anything she could reach through the glass and take it, to have one last piece of her brother to carry with her forever. But it was not to be, and she sadly turned away and continued up the street.

* * *

Despite the melancholy that settled over Enjolras' mind, his body began to recover quickly. He seemed to fight his own recovery, however, refusing to rise even when he probably could. Not even Joly's urging could get him to move. He rarely spoke, let Gabrielle or Musichetta force food down his throat, and submitted to Joly applying more poultice to his wounds without complaint. He was listless and resigned, and no matter what any of them said, he didn't stir. Gabrielle began to fear leaving him alone, wondering if he would do something drastic and try to take his own life. She had never seen a human being so broken, and it caused her heart to contract painfully every time she looked at him, remembering the fire that had filled his voice as he stood in the Café Musain and gave speeches to rally his friends. He had believed they were about to change the world, that their barricade would become a revolution that swept through Paris. His _Patria_ had abandoned him in his hour of need, and Gabrielle imagined he felt rather betrayed and angry underneath the gloom. The people had not seen the future as he had, and he couldn't understand their refusal to help themselves. He couldn't understand their ambivalence.

Of course, Enjolras said none of this, and Gabrielle only imagined these were the things running through his mind. She never said anything, though, and let him lay silently in the bed. When it was her turn to watch him, they were quiet companions, very different from Joly's incessant chatter and Musichetta's humming and singing. Sometimes, when she felt brave enough or when she was feeling particularly sad herself, she would reach for his hand. He never pulled away, but seemed to sense her feelings, and sometimes even ran his thumb soothingly over her wrist, though his eyes never sought hers.

One day, about two weeks after the battle on the barricade, Gabrielle was surprised when Enjolras' voice finally broke through the silence.

"Why are you still here, Gabrielle?"

She started and looked at him. His face was still turned away, but he had spoken and that was a good sign.

"To care for you, Antoine, as my brother would have wanted."

He finally turned to face her and frowned. "What about your job? The boy's lessons?"

Gabrielle sighed and shrugged. "I am no longer employed by the baron. He was unkind about my brother and the fighting, calling you all foolish and saying you deserved what you got. I let my temper get the better of me and quit..."

Enjolras raised his eyebrows and said quietly, "Perhaps he was correct in his estimation of our foolishness. But your brother did _not _deserve to die."

"_No_. No, you were not foolish. You don't really believe that, do you?"

"I no longer know what to believe. Everything is..."

"Gone?" Gabrielle offered. "I feel that way, too, Antoine, but...but I know Alexandre would want me to be happy. Or to at least try and be happy. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, I don't know where I will be in a month and I can hardly even imagine a year..." Gabrielle smiled sadly. "But I know I have to keep going. When my parents died, Alexandre never let that stop him. I cannot let his death stop me."

Enjolras suddenly gripped her hand. "I killed him, Gabrielle. I killed your brother, or as good as. Please, say you hate me. Stop showing me kindness as you have been. I do not deserve it."

Gabrielle sucked in a breath at the hatred she heard in his tone and said gently, "I cannot hate you, Monsieur. I remember you, what you were, how glorious and fierce your spirit...you will be that way again one day, Antoine. I will not hate you."

Enjolras gritted his teeth and turned his head away again, his grip loosening on her hand. He said no more, and Gabrielle went back to her silent vigil.

* * *

**I didn't expect to update again only a day later, but the reviews really picked up for the last chapter, so I decided to! I'm actually several chapters ahead in this story (and the ENTIRE second half is almost completely written, including the end), so I'm actually kind of anxious to post.**

**Thank you SO MUCH to everyone that is reviewing and adding the story to your favorites and update lists! I'm flattered that you're reading and it makes my day to see the kind words you're sending my way! I hope you continue to like the story!**

**Also...God help me, but I think I might try some Enjolras/Eponine next? Better finish this first. ;)**


	6. Chapter VI

Chapter VI

Gabrielle woke up the next morning from a fitful sleep on Musichetta's sofa. Since Enjolras couldn't be left alone, they had all been taking turns sleeping downstairs at her apartment. Gabrielle had a feeling, however, that with Enjolras' turn for the better, she was about to lose her temporary sleeping space. She had no idea where she would go next or how she would afford to pay for it. Yes, she had her brother's meager savings, but they wouldn't last for long. She needed to find a job, and quickly, or face a new and terrifying existence on the streets of Paris.

Gabrielle went upstairs to Enjolras' door and knocked softly. She was surprised to hear Enjolras himself answer, "Come in."

Gabrielle slowly pushed open the door and stopped, taking in the scene before her. Enjolras was actually dressed and sitting on the sofa, his curls dripping wet. He had a determined set to his jaw, and despite the dark circles under his eyes, seemed physically well.

"Look who has decided to grace us with his presence once again!" Joly grinned and gently clapped Enjolras on the back as he stood. His cheer seemed somewhat forced, but Gabrielle knew Joly was just doing the best he could, battling his own demons and memories. "Our friend is feeling much better today, Gabrielle, so I am going to go and see about finding us all some breakfast."

Joly excused himself and Gabrielle still stood near the doorway, gazing at Enjolras. He finally said quietly, "Well? Are you going to sit down?"

Gabrielle walked over to the sofa and sat at the opposite end. "You look well. I'm happy to see you out of bed."

"I can't hide forever, as much as I'd like to." His eyes still seemed dull and lifeless, but Gabrielle supposed it would take a while for that to go away. The guilt he felt weighed heavily, she knew, and only time could possibly ease his pain.

"Soon you will be well enough to go back to your classes. That will give you something to focus on," she said optimistically.

He didn't answer and they sat in awkward silence for a minute before Enjolras asked, "What are you going to do, Gabrielle?"

It was the moment she had been dreading, but in typical Enjolras fashion, he had gotten straight to the point. "I don't know. I suppose since you're feeling better that I should begin to look for a job directly after breakfast. I don't even know where to start, truthfully...I was sent to the de Sauveterre's from school. Maybe I should write to Madame Gerard's and ask for another recommendation?" she thought aloud.

"And what will you do in the meantime?"

"Wouldn't I like to know?" she sighed. "I suppose I'll manage. I need to find somewhere to stay, first of all, and..."

"You'll stay here," he said firmly, and finally met her eyes.

"Here? But..." she bit her lip. It had been fine while he was bedridden and needed round the clock care. Watching out for and dozing next to an unconscious invalid was one thing, but living with a man she was not married to? It would be far beyond the boundaries of polite society. "I don't know if that is such a good idea..."

"Come now, what do you care about social conventions?" His tone was reproachful.

"When it may cost me a job? I care deeply," she retorted.

"It is highly unlikely that anyone would find out. And besides..." Enjolras said seriously, "I made your brother a promise."

"When?"

"On the barricade." Enjolras said, and it took a minute for him to continue, his face turning grave. "He seemed to know he was going to die. He had made his mind up, even before the fighting began in earnest. He asked me, that if I should survive, I would look after you. I told him I would." Enjolras' eyes looked far away and sad.

Gabrielle was touched, but reminded him gently, "Antoine, I am sure at that moment that you were convinced you were going to die yourself. I do not hold you accountable for a promise you made at such a time."

"I made it, nevertheless."

"I can take care of myself," she protested.

"I never said that you couldn't. I only said I made a promise, and I never break promises, especially not to _dead_ friends," Enjolras said roughly.

Gabrielle sighed and looked at the floor. He was a stubborn man, she knew, and did not take no for an answer easily. What would her brother encourage her to do? Staying with Enjolras would solve at least one problem for the time being...

"Alright. I will stay here. You are very kind to offer. Thank you, Antoine."

"No, thank you for making it easy for me to honor my friend's wishes. And..." he glanced at her, suddenly uncomfortable. "Thank you for saving me. I appreciate the courage that it must have taken, Gabrielle, and I will not soon forget your kindness." Gabrielle detected a false note in his voice, and she knew he still truly wished she would have let him die with his friends, but at least he was emerging, however slowly, from his self-imposed silence. Surely he would only continue to recover from here.

"You're welcome. I would have done it for any of you there."

At that moment, Joly and Musichetta arrived with fresh breakfast from a _patisserie_ down the street. They were a strange assortment, Gabrielle mused as they all sat around the room and ate, and everything felt more than a little bit wrong. There were so many dear people missing, who had disappeared from the world so suddenly, but nevertheless, they tried their best to be cheerful and it gave Gabrielle courage to know she did not face the day alone.

* * *

By that evening, however, Gabrielle's courage was waning. She had decided that instead of writing to Madame Gerard's, she would simply go there in person. The Madame was very frank, to put it mildly. The Baron de Sauveterre had already contacted her and complained about Gabrielle's services, and even though Gabrielle had expected it, she was still disappointed. She had taught and loved Armand and Louisa faithfully and without trouble for a year, and in one night, everything had turned to dust. Madame Gerard told her she would never have a recommendation from them again, and Gabrielle knew that without it, her chances of finding another job as a governess were slim.

She walked back to Enjolras' apartment slowly, turning her situation over in her mind. She felt hollow, and had never felt so lonely and heartsick. She desperately wished she could talk to her brother, hear his voice and feel his unwavering confidence and pride for her. He had been so young himself when their parents died, but he had never strayed from his righteous path. He had been brother, mother, and father to her, truth be told, and Gabrielle didn't know what to do without his guidance.

Gabrielle hoped Enjolras would be asleep when she arrived, but her wish was not to be. He was still on the sofa when she came in, reading by candlelight, and quite alone. It seemed Joly thought him well enough to be by himself for a few hours.

"Hello," she greeted uncertainly. She felt like she was intruding on his private space and felt awkward, lingering near the door.

"You can sit, Gabrielle," he reminded her. "This is now your home, too, however temporary."

She nodded, but instead of sitting, began putting away the books that had already accumulated on the floor in the short time Enjolras had been up and awake. He watched her for a minute and then said with a dry amusement, "What are you doing?"

"Putting your books away, of course. I organized them yesterday. Philosophy on this shelf, novels here, law books, history on these two shelves, medicine here, social theory is on that one...and then whatever else didn't really fit is on the floor."

"Making yourself at home already, I see," he mumbled.

Gabrielle blushed crimson and stammered, "I...oh, God, I'm so sorry. That was stupid of me, I never should have touched your things, I just needed something to do and I was curious about what you had and everything else was so neat and tidy and..." She forced her lips together, realizing she was babbling like a fool.

Though he looked more than a bit annoyed, Enjolras replied cordially, "It's alright. I imagine once I get used to it, it will be rather helpful to have them organized."

"I can always toss them about the room again, if you'd like?" Gabrielle forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood and release her awkwardness.

Enjolras smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, and Gabrielle finally sat on the sofa. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Did you have any luck today?"

"No." Gabrielle smoothed her skirt and frowned. "None at all. I am afraid the Baron de Sauveterre has had me blacklisted as a governess. It would take a miracle to find a position again. But, no bother, I suppose I will just have to find something else to do!" She forced herself to sound cheery, but had a feeling she ended up sounding rather pathetic instead.

Enjolras scowled and ran a hand through his hair. "I will try to think of something for you."

"Please, don't waste your time, Monsieur. We both know jobs are scarce enough as it is...I will be lucky to find factory work."

"And do you know what kind of life that entails, Gabrielle?" Enjolras sounded a bit condescending and Gabrielle bristled.

"It is honest work, at least. What else am I to do? I will keep looking for something else, of course, but I just don't see what could possibly change." Her throat felt tight, a sure sign of impending tears.

"And when will you write your novels? When will you have time to devote to your creativity and passion?"

Gabrielle quickly looked away, for he had voiced her worst fear – that her life would become one only of toil and drudgery, the only possible solution being marrying above her station. That was simply an impossibilty. She had no dowry and no prospects, and besides, she couldn't imagine herself willfully submitting to a man just to secure financial security, having her wings clipped, so to speak. There were not many men in Paris, or the world for that matter, that would ever see her as an equal and she would settle for nothing less.

"I suppose those things will just turn into dreams," she said quietly. "We have both had a rather rude awakening these past few weeks, have we not?"

He said nothing, but turned and glared at her, and Gabrielle had to force herself to look back at him. He apparently had not lost all of his fight, though she didn't quite know why his ire was suddenly directed at her.

"I suppose I can add your name to the long list of people I have failed." His words were bitter.

"You haven't failed me, Enjolras. You are..." Gabrielle paused, trying to choose her words carefully. "You are lost right now, and everything seems dark. I know you feel guilt, and the failure of the revolution feels like it rests solely on you. Yet you forget that there were other barricades throughout the city, other young men who felt the same as you, who also wanted change. You failed no one, believe me, but there were many that failed you."

"My friends died, Gabrielle. And for what? What did they sacrifice their lives for? _Nothing has changed. _And it seems nothing will."

"I wish you wouldn't think that way," Gabrielle said softly, and suddenly she couldn't hold back her tears anymore. She was mortified at such an embarrassing display of emotion, but continued anyway. "You were so...so passionate, so inspiring. You made me feel so hopeful, like the world could be a better place if we only tried hard enough to make it so. There must be a way to salvage all of this?" She wiped at her eyes, wishing she wasn't so weak.

They said nothing else, and Enjolras didn't look at her as she cried. He stared at the wall instead, lost in remembrances of another time and place.

Finally, he said quietly, "Forgive me, Gabrielle, but I fear I must ask you to help me to bed. I cannot yet walk on my own, and I'm tired."

"Of course." She rose, wiping away the last of her tears, and awkwardly helped Enjolras stand. He placed his arm around her shoulders and rested a good amount of his weight on her, though she could tell he was trying to do it on his own. They moved slowly to the bedroom, and by the time they had reached the bed, Enjolras was sweating from the effort. He sat heavily on the edge of the mattress and wiped his forehead.

"Your strength will return soon," she said comfortingly. "The best thing you can do for now is rest."

"I fear my mind will not let me," he admitted. "Even my dreams are plagued by accusing demons. I hope your sleep is more peaceful."

"Perhaps it will be. Goodnight, Antoine." Gabrielle left the bedroom and settled herself on the sofa, and despite her worries, fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

**You guys. Seriously, YOU GUYS. I have gotten so many nice reviews. I can't even. Thank you so much for reading and being so kind to me and my story! And PLEASE, keep reviewing! They really were so sweet and put such a big smile on my face! And also, PLEASE tell me what you'd like to see happen - sometimes, inspiration comes from really little things and I will end up writing a whole chapter or big scene based on something very small that strikes me.**

**Also, I updated my profile. (Who cares, really? It's lame.) But I wrote a little bit about why I became re-attached to Les Mis recently and how it ties into my every day life. Read if you are curious and I won't be offended if you don't. :)**

**Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter VII

Chapter VII

Enjolras encouraged Gabrielle to continue looking for a position as a governess, insisting that the baron couldn't have possibly turned all of the _bourgeoisie_ of Paris against her in only a few weeks. Without support from Madame Gerard or her previous employer, however, Gabrielle had no luck, with everyone automatically assuming some sort of scandal must be the reason she came without any recommendation.

The only bright spot in the next week was finding out Marius Pontmercy was alive and well, and with his beloved, Cosette. When Enjolras learned the news, Gabrielle saw some of his old spirit come alive again, but it didn't last long. Even with his multiple bullet wounds and broken spirit, however, Enjolras' body continued to recover, and soon, Joly had convinced him to return to his law classes. Nearly a month had gone by since the barricade and Gabrielle was beginning to feel desperate. She felt she had overstayed her welcome, but Enjolras wouldn't even hear of her moving out.

One day, after an unsuccessful afternoon of searching for a job, Gabrielle ran into Enjolras coming out of their building as she was going in. They nearly collided in the doorway and Enjolras reached out to steady her.

"Good evening, Antoine – where are you off to?" She smiled in greeting, trying to convey a happiness she didn't really feel.

"Marius has asked me to dinner at his grandfather's. He wants me to meet his Cosette, his _fianc__é_." Gabrielle could tell Enjolras resisted rolling his eyes at the word, for he certainly was not a romantic.

She laughed and patted his arm. "I am sure she is lovely and you will enjoy her company. And you have your good friend again, surely you are happy about that?"

"Of course. But..." Enjolras eyed her critically for a moment, his eyes narrowing. "I am sure Cosette would be happier with another woman in attendance this evening. Would you consider accompanying me?"

Gabrielle hesitated – she knew Marius' grandfather was wealthy, and even Enjolras himself had money. His rich and well-tailored clothing proved that. Comparatively, Gabrielle's wardrobe was drab and inappropriate, made of the cheapest material, well-worn, and plain. She would be completely out of place, and said so.

Enjolras did roll his eyes at that. "No one cares about your clothing, Gabrielle, least of all Marius or myself. Say you are coming with me." After a minute, he added, as if remembering it was polite to request and not command, "Please?"

"If you really think it's alright..."

"I do. Thank you, this will make the evening a bit easier." Enjolras offered his arm and she took it. They walked in the cooler evening air to Monsieur Gillenormand, Marius' grandfather's, house. They walked slowly, as Enjolras was still not completely himself, but he insisted that the exercise would do him good.

As they arrived at Monsieur Gillenormand's residence, Gabrielle stared at the imposing structure uncertainly. She had never been in a home so grand as anything other than a governess, and certainly never attended a dinner in one.

"I'm beginning to think this was a mistake," Gabrielle admitted as they entered through the front gate and went up the walk.

Enjolras stopped and looked at her, his expression serious, as usual. "Are you really that pre-occupied with what others think or say, by what society dictates?"

Gabrielle flushed at the disappointment she seemed to hear in Enjolras' tone.

"Antoine, you are wealthy, are you not?" she asked frankly.

He quirked an eyebrow. "Yes, I suppose."

"Then I truly think you have no right to judge the feelings of those who are not. You have never served someone who so clearly thinks you beneath them, who has no respect for your humanity or innate intelligence, who..."

Gabrielle was interrupted by the front door opening, and Marius peering out.

"Enjolras! Right on time, as usual." Enjolras gazed at Gabrielle for a minute, looking like he wanted to hear the rest of what she had to say, but he smiled as Marius warmly embraced him.

"_Bonjour, _Marius_ - _you remember Mademoiselle Feuilly?" Enjolras gestured to Gabrielle.

"Of course. It is a pleasure to see you again, Mademoiselle," Marius said as he lifted her hand to his lips. "Thank you for joining us tonight, I am sure Cosette will be happy to meet you."

"Please, call me Gabrielle, Monsieur. My brother always spoke so highly of you."

"Then you must call me Marius." He led them into the house, limping slightly from his own lingering wounds, where Cosette was waiting just inside the door. Her beautiful blue eyes lit up when she saw Enjolras.

"You must be Monsieur Enjolras? I am so glad to meet you, at last." Cosette gripped Enjolras' hands. "I cannot tell you what a relief it was for my _fianc__é_ to hear you were alive, what it did to revive his spirit. I am so happy to see you well."

Enjolras looked a bit uncomfortable and mumbled incoherently while Marius beamed lovingly at Cosette, who soon turned her attention to Gabrielle.

"_Bonjour_! I am Cosette, Monsieur Marius' _fianc__é_." It seemed Cosette couldn't get enough of saying that word, and despite herself, Gabrielle found she instantly liked the young woman. She was one of the most beautiful people Gabrielle had ever seen, her golden hair soft and shining, her large eyes warm and sincere, and her figure small and petite. Her dress was fashionable and of the softest rose color, complimenting her ivory skin. She was the kind of woman men stopped to stare at on the street and other ladies envied, and she made it all look effortless.

"_Bonjour. _I am Gabrielle..." she stopped, for she had been about to introduce herself as a friend of Enjolras, but she didn't really know how true that statement was.

"Gabrielle is my friend," Enjolras rescued her. "And the sister of one of our fallen comrades, Feuilly."

"Oh!" Cosette's face softened and she took Gabrielle's arm, leading her into the parlour. "I am so sorry to hear of your brother, Gabrielle; what happened was so tragic and heartbreaking. It is horrible to lose someone you love, but I suppose we must be thankful that we still have Enjolras and Marius?" Cosette smiled and squeezed her hand.

"Yes," Gabrielle agreed. "I agree that there is always something to be grateful for. Congratulations on your upcoming marriage."

"Thank you!" Cosette's eyes sparkled and Gabrielle was a little bit captivated despite herself – is this what real love looked like? Is this how happy it could really make you? Perhaps it was something to envy, Gabrielle mused. "I confess I am rather anxious for the day to arrive. I do so wish my father could be here, but..." Cosette shrugged, a usually crude gesture that looked graceful on her, "...he is traveling and it cannot be helped."

Cosette and Gabrielle talked quietly on the sofa while Enjolras and Marius discussed their classes on the other side of the room, and Gabrielle soon forgot any discomfort she had felt on the way over. Cosette kept up a steady stream of chatter that was neither insipid or too serious and Gabrielle appreciated her company, and even found she was enjoying herself after a while. It was rather unusual, as Gabrielle had never really had much time to socialize with other girls her age.

She became distracted, however, when she heard Marius hesitatingly ask Enjolras, "And what of the _Les Amis, _Enjolras? Will we continue?"

Enjolras' back stiffened. "With who, Marius? In case you failed to notice, most of us are gone."

"Not all of us. There are men all over the city that would still be willing to join us." Marius sounded hopeful, and Gabrielle watched Enjolras closely, hoping he would react positively to his friend's request for his leadership.

Enjolras laughed derisively. "Yes, I am sure they will be falling over themselves to follow the man that got all of his friends killed. That makes complete sense."

Cosette had turned her attention to the two men, too, and was looking worriedly back and forth from them to Gabrielle.

Gabrielle stayed silent, but barely, feeling it wasn't really her place to pry.

"Enjolras, we may have lost the battle, but I do not believe we lost the war. There is still so much to fight for. Our friends would want us to continue." Marius had leaned forward, and Gabrielle was touched to see the fire in his eyes – the fire that had been missing from Enjolras since the barricade.

"Continue _what_, Marius? The people did not stir from their beds. Those that we fought for do not want our help. There can be no revolution without the people." Enjolras sounded defeated, and Gabrielle could tell he was getting annoyed and impatient from the way he began fidgeting.

"There are other ways we can fight, and other ways we can help the disenfranchised." Marius suddenly turned to Gabrielle. "Gabrielle, your brother was passionate about helping the _abaiss__é _and you attended many of our meetings yourself. What do you think? Is it best to give it all up as a lost cause or to continue to make our voices heard?"

"Well..." Gabrielle hesitated as Enjolras turned his cold gaze on her. She frowned back at him, choosing her words with careful consideration. "I think that there will always be those that need help in the world. That will never change, though I wish it would. What does it say about you if you give up everything you believed in now? There are still people suffering every day; you need only walk outside your door to see it. Until someone refuses to give up on their behalf, no matter what obstacles and heartache stand in the way, then nothing will change." She tried to make her voice sound gentle, but Enjolras scowled further, if it was possible.

Marius nodded encouragingly. "I agree, Gabrielle. We did not fight for nothing and there is still something to fight for."

"I never said that we fought for nothing," Enjolras said, a touch of anger in his tone. "And I do not wish to speak of this further tonight."

"Then we shall not mention it again, Monsieur Enjolras. Tonight is supposed to be a happy time, is it not, Marius?" Cosette gave her _fianc__é_ a pointed look and Marius suddenly looked apologetic.

"Yes, of course it is...I'm sorry, Enjolras, for speaking out of turn. Let us talk of other matters."

Cosette turned to Gabrielle and asked brightly, trying to clear the air, "And what is it that you do, Gabrielle?" She didn't know that this was also a sensitive subject.

"I was a governess, actually, but I am no longer employed. I am trying to find work now, but I'm not having much luck." Gabrielle forced a smile, trying not to let it show that it bothered her.

"I am sure you will find another position soon," Cosette said optimistically. "Do you enjoy teaching?"

"I don't mind, really. Of course, there are other things I would rather do, but I may have to settle for anything I can get now."

"What would you rather do?" Marius asked curiously. "Are you an artist like your brother?"

"Goodness, no...I have none of his talent, though I wish I did. I really wouldn't mind going to university, actually. I envy you both – I think studying the law would be incredibly compelling. But I have a dream of publishing novels one day," Gabrielle admitted, blushing. "Of course, neither of those dreams are very likely to come true."

"How interesting!" Cosette said sincerely. "Can you imagine if women were allowed to attend university? Or enter politics? The world would look quite different, I'd imagine."

Cosette laughed, but Enjolras said honestly, "Perhaps better. Though I believe women to be equal to men, I do know our two sexes think and feel things differently. A woman's perspective would alter things for the better."

"There have been powerful women in history," Gabrielle insisted, happy to jump in and keep Enjolras talking about something interesting again. "But I do not know just how compassionate they were able to really be. It seems that they maybe had to be even _more_ unsentimental than their male counterparts in order to keep their power. Nefertiti, Cleopatra...even the great philosopher and mathematician Hypatia of Alexandria. All were women who rose to power, but lost it at the hands of men who were threatened by them. I think it will be quite a while before the world accepts the equality of women..." Gabrielle trailed off, realizing Cosette was staring at her with a rather blank expression, as if she had no idea who or what Gabrielle was talking about.

Enjolras, however, had a thoughtful look on his face, and seemed engaged and interested for the first time in a long while. "I believe it is not just about women – sometimes the world faces great setbacks in the advancement of human rights and knowledge, generally. Hypatia's death and the burning of the library of Alexandria show just that."

Cosette's voice broke into their conversation, and Gabrielle swallowed her disappointment. She had missed the thrill that talking to Enjolras gave her. "Forgive me, Gabrielle, but may I enquire about some positions for you? Marius' grandfather knows quite a lot of people, and perhaps one of them is in need of a governess."

"Oh..." Gabrielle bit her lip said with some embarrassment, "I left my employer rather abruptly. I would appreciate you asking, but, I am afraid you may not have much luck once they learn more about me."

"I am sure you had a good reason for leaving. You think he is making things difficult for you now?"

"Yes. He was rude and I was rude in turn, I am sorry to say. I have no recommendation from him or from the school I attended. I have been searching for weeks and continually been turned away. I let my temper get the best of me, I'm afraid, and am now paying the price."

Cosette took her hand and squeezed. "I will help you! I know I can find something, let's not give up just yet."

Gabrielle felt taken aback. She wasn't used to being around anyone with Cosette's giving and sweet nature. She almost seemed to good to be true, and it was easy to see why Marius had fallen so deeply in love with her so quickly. Still, Gabrielle was rather used to being on her own and fending for herself, and it was odd to have an almost complete stranger offering her help.

Gabrielle awkwardly mumbled her thanks. The evening continued on a lighter note after that, and Gabrielle was actually glad she had decided to come. By the time she and Enjolras said goodbye and departed, Gabrielle was certain she had actually made a real friend, one of the first in her life. It was the first spot of light in a world that had been dominated by darkness in the last month, and she said a silent prayer of thanks as she walked home under the stars with Enjolras.

* * *

After another week of no luck, Gabrielle gave in and visited one of the many textile factories in the city. She was hired on the spot, and despite the relief of knowing she would have steady work and income, however small, she knew what the life of a factory worker was like. And it was not easy.

Gabrielle didn't tell Enjolras where she was going, and slipped out of the apartment and to work early the first day. She was taught how to stand at the carding machine and continually feed the sheets of separated fibers through the sharp metal teeth that would make them even finer. It was mindless and boring, and after only a day on the job, her feet and back ached horribly from standing in the same position for nearly ten hours. All she could think of was sleep by the time she wearily walked home.

Enjolras was working at his desk when Gabrielle entered and he looked up at her. "Good evening...you're out quite late tonight."

"Yes..." Gabrielle practically fell onto the sofa. She couldn't resist laying down and lifting her feet, no matter how unladylike it was. "I've been at work."

"Work? Where?"

Gabrielle mumbled the name of the factory, putting an arm over her face in exhaustion, and she soon felt Enjolras looming over her.

"_Where?_ What in the world do you think you're doing there?" He sounded furious, and his judgmental tone grated on her already frayed nerves and raw emotions.

She slowly lowered her arm and looked up at him. "Earning a living, Monsieur. Mind your high and mighty tone, if you will. I am not too proud to take what work I can get. It is respectable." She was too tired to bother with being polite, and his displeasure with her was actually rather embarrassing.

"You can't work there, Gabrielle..." he crossed his arms and stood his ground. "Your brother fought so that you wouldn't have to do work like that, tried to give you something better..." Enjolras suddenly cursed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "What is this mess I've gotten you in? I killed my friends, I ruined your prospects..." He stalked back across the room and swept the books and papers off his desk, sending them flying in all directions. It was an unexpected outburst of emotion from someone who was usually calm and collected, except when standing on tables and delivering rousing speeches.

Gabrielle jumped and sat up. "I am not your _problem_ or concern, Enjolras!"

"You are! And if you don't understand that, then you aren't half as intelligent as I thought you were." They glared at each other for what seemed like minutes, but was probably more like seconds, before Enjolras finally lowered his eyes.

He slowly unclenched his fists and absently reached up to rub his shoulder, which was still sore from one of the bullets that had pierced his body. His face slowly fell and his shoulders slumped as he fought for control of his emotions. "_You _are not a problem," he finally said in a conciliatory voice, "and I apologize for implying otherwise if I did. What _I _have done is the problem, and what it has caused. Whatever you say will not make me believe it is not at least partly my fault."

"I need to leave then, Antoine. I shouldn't be here if I am only going to add to your guilt. I must have a job, or else what will I do? I have to support myself." Gabrielle was still upset, and knew she sounded it. "Perhaps something better will happen one day, but until then, I will do what I must." She rose, despite her aching feet, and crossed the room to stand in front of him. He looked at her from beneath lowered lids, his hair hanging in his face, and she waited until he met her eyes. "I need you to understand that I do not blame you, Enjolras. Neither would my brother. Everything you are feeling, you are placing on yourself."

"I know. But knowing doesn't help," he said honestly.

"You have been incredibly kind to let me stay here..." she began, but he cut her off abruptly.

"You will continue to stay, Gabrielle. If it is the only thing I can do for you, please let me." His voice was pleading.

"I'm too tired to argue." She shrugged and reached up, unpinning her hair and letting it tumble down her back. "I just want to sleep."

"You should take the bed," Enjolras offered, and his eyes were soft as he gazed at her.

"No, of course not. It doesn't matter to me, anyway. I could sleep on the floor right now and I wouldn't care. You are still injured, no matter what you think, and you will keep your own bed." Gabrielle laid back down on the sofa and closed her eyes.

"Are you always so bossy?"

She opened her eyes and glared at him. "When I am living with such a stubborn man, then yes, I suppose I am."

His lips quirked upward for a moment and he shook his head. His amusement didn't last long, however, and he eventually sat down heavily in the desk chair, clasping his hands in front of him. "I didn't mean to make you feel inferior by what I said. I don't think less of you or anyone else that does any kind of honest work. It's only that the conditions...those are not fair. This is the kind of thing we wanted to _change_, and now instead I've practically sealed your fate with our failure...and I'm sorry." He sounded so sad, and it made Gabrielle feel helpless. Though she hadn't known the old Enjolras all that well, she missed him.

"No matter what I say, I won't make you feel differently, Antoine. I understand why you think that way. But I can't make you accept what's happened with my words. You're going to have to move on on your own," she said gently.

He said no more, and though she tried to stay awake in case he had anything else to say, her eyes became too heavy to keep open. She fell asleep feeling nothing but sympathy for the burden that Enjolras carried.

* * *

**The reviews that I got for the last chapter were so amazing - thank you so much to each and every one of you. I'm trying to reply to everyone that signs in, but if you are reviewing as a guest, here is your HUGE thank you! You have all been so encouraging and I appreciate it so much!**

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter - big things are coming in the next, so I'm anxious to post it! And also - I hope you all find Cosette to only be mildly annoying, or not annoying at all, in this story. I think the musical makes her look like an idiot, but Amanda Seyfried's portrayal of her was actually the first time I didn't dislike her. So I'm trying to keep the Cosette love going...:)**


	8. Chapter VIII

Chapter VIII

Gabrielle's days became a blur of unvaried monotony; rise before dawn, eat, pack lunch, go to work, come home, sleep, and then rise to do it all over again. Her body gradually got used to the new routine and she found she wasn't quite as tired as she was when she first began, although a nearly seventy-hour work week was vastly different than what she was used to as a governess. She had no days off, and was too tired to write or really even socialize when she came home. She barely even saw Enjolras, though they occupied the same space.

As the days wore on, her spirits sunk lower and lower. She missed her brother, she missed her old job, and she missed herself, the girl she used to be. She missed her writing, the feeling of creativity that used to flow through her and empty itself onto the blank page. She still had the desire to write, but not the urge or energy that used to overcome her at all hours of the day or night, sometimes even keeping her awake until she could get the right words out and give them a life of their own. They were all stifled inside of her now, and she didn't think they would ever be able to break free again. She tried not to wallow in all of the things that were wrong, however, and just kept going, putting one foot in front of the other. If she saved a little bit of money, perhaps she wouldn't always have to work so hard. Perhaps she could even find another job.

As she was leaving the house with the sun one morning, she ran into both Enjolras and Marius stumbling in.

"Good morning," Enjolras mumbled as they passed in the hall. "Are you really leaving for work this early?"

Gabrielle raised her eyebrows and replied, "And are you really just getting home? What in the world have you been doing all night?"

Marius looked surprised to see her. "We have been working...exams are approaching." He opened his mouth as if to ask another question, but closed it and looked at Enjolras incredulously.

"Have a good day, Gabrielle, I will see you this evening." Enjolras entered the apartment and Marius followed, tossing Gabrielle a goodbye over his shoulder.

Gabrielle continued down the stairs and out into the morning, already ready for the day to be over.

* * *

Marius waited until they were inside to exclaim, "She is _living _with you?! Are you involved with her?" Marius looked stunned, as if he couldn't believe that Enjolras had finally given in to a woman's wiles.

Enjolras quirked an eyebrow. "No. I am not 'involved' with her. She is a friend, and perhaps not even that. I made a promise to Feuilly that I never thought I would have to keep, and nothing more. I do have a sense of honor, Marius."

"What did you promise?"

"That I would look after her if I should live and he should die. And then she found me at the barricade...I would be dead if not for her. I feel I owe her."

"So she is staying with you. This isn't exactly conventional, Enjolras, living with an unmarried woman who actually _cares _about her reputation. How long will she stay here?"

"I don't know."

"This could ruin her prospects, Enjolras. What else do you intend to do to help her? Give her money?"

"She wouldn't take it."

"Then what?"

Enjolras cursed and glared at him, his eyes stormy with guilt. "I don't know, Marius! For God's sake, give me a suggestion if you have one because she is breaking her back in that godforsaken factory every day and I feel her brother's disappointment from the grave!"

Marius sighed, looking at Enjolras sympathetically. "It is not your fault, Enjolras. None of it."

Enjolras laughed bitterly and walked into the bedroom, Marius trailing in his wake. He didn't even bother responding, and hoped Marius would take the hint and leave him to sleep for at least a few hours.

"Regardless, Enjolras, what will you do? You will torture yourself if she continues what she's doing, although you will probably torture yourself anyway...have you thought of anything to ease her burden?"

"No."

"So you are content to just let things continue as they are?"

"I can't bring her brother back, or _any _of them, I can't get her job back, I can't find another job for her...I don't know what to do, Marius. Leave it for now." Enjolras sat on the bed and pulled off his boots.

Marius shrugged, a look of contemplation gracing his features. "Well...she could marry? Perhaps someone with a little bit of money and stability. Do we know anyone?"

Enjolras' mouth fell open at the unexpected suggestion. "Marry? Oh, yes, I'm sure that would solve all of her problems," he said sarcastically. "I know her much better than you, Marius, and Gabrielle is fiercely independent. She will not marry someone just to solve what she sees as a temporary problem. Not to mention I know of no one that is searching for a wife in the first place."

"Would she marry you?" Enjolras couldn't tell whether or not Marius was joking.

"Excuse me?"

"You wouldn't expect anything from her – wouldn't want her to be anything she isn't, wouldn't expect her to be a perfect, submissive little wife. She could stay independent. You may even be fond of her," Marius hinted. "You have money, and it would make her life easier. I know your mother has been begging you to marry. Gabrielle seems to like you enough, and you like talking to her, too, I've seen it."

Good God, he wasn't joking.

"Where did you get this _unbelievably_ ludicrous idea?"

"Cosette, actually," Marius admitted. "She said she saw a connection between you both the other night and wondered what you were to each other. It made me think of all those times she came to the meetings, and how you always made it a point to speak with her. And then, losing Feuilly as she did, and arriving unexpectedly with _you_ to dinner. It made me wonder how you feel about her."

So this idea hadn't really been out of nowhere. Enjolras didn't know what to say, something he wasn't used to. "I...I don't think this has any real merit, Marius."

"Still," Marius protested. "I know you don't care for love or romantic ideals. So that doesn't even have to factor into a decision such as this. This could be more of a friendly arrangement, if you will. And, truthfully, with _you _as a husband, Gabrielle would be free to be even _more _independent than she is now. You would never stop her doing anything she wanted to do, but you would be there to care for her and protect her as her brother has always done. She could write her novels like she mentioned. Maybe she could even manage to get published. Or she could help us write once we get the _Les Amis_ started up again..."

Enjolras fell back onto the bed and groaned. "You don't give up, do you?"

"You asked for a suggestion."

"Go away, Marius. I want to sleep."

Marius slowly backed out of the room, grinning to himself. "Fine. But I know you're going to consider this, no matter what you just said. When you really think about it, you'll see it's actually rather sensible. Even Combeferre would agree."

Enjolras didn't reply and kept his eyes closed, and he soon heard the front door shut as Marius left. Despite his tired mind, sleep did not come easily.

* * *

As tired as he was, Enjolras didn't find rest that day. After a few hours of tossing and turning, he again dragged himself to class. His mind was pre-occupied, though, on Marius' earlier idea and he found he had no clue what the lecture had been about once it was through. Despite Enjolras' initial astonishment at Marius' suggestion of marrying Gabrielle, he kept turning it over in his mind, as he was wont to do with any idea new idea, weighing both the positive and negative consequences. He found himself wishing Combeferre was there to talk it through with him, his guide who had always been so practical and calm. Marius was wrong; Combeferre would surely think it was as radical as Enjolras...wouldn't he?

Enjolras did have Joly, though, so he stopped at Musichetta's door on the way up to his apartment. Since the barricade, Joly had practically abandoned his own apartment and was staying with Musichetta permanently. Enjolras was glad they were able to find solace in each other, for he knew they both missed Bossuet dearly.

Musichetta opened the door at his knock and grinned at him in her usual flirtatious way. "What brings you here, Enjolras? You know we're always open to having more company." She winked suggestively and Enjolras ignored her jibes as he entered the apartment. She enjoyed flirtatiously baiting him, he knew.

"Is Joly here?"

Musichetta gestured toward the bedroom and Enjolras knocked at the door before entering. Joly was seated on the bed, books spread around him, frown on his face. He looked up worriedly as Enjolras entered.

"Oh, Enjolras...I didn't expect you. Listen to this, will you? I think this may be why my head has been aching lately..."

Enjolras resisted rolling his eyes and said in what he hoped was a consoling manner, "I'm sure you're fine, Joly. I came to ask your opinion of something."

Joly hesitated, looking like he wanted to protest Enjolras' estimation of his health, but finally closed the book in front of him. "Alright. Sit." He gestured to the desk chair next to the bed and Enjolras sat. "What do you need?"

Enjolras summoned his inner lawyer, which wasn't really that difficult to do, and began in his commanding manner: "As you know, I feel responsible for Gabrielle. I promised Feuilly I would look after her, and I have been unhappy at what she's had to do since...well, since the barricade." Enjolras' eyes darkened as he said the words. He had barely mentioned their failed uprising since that day and the words tasted bitter. Joly nodded at him to go on. "I've been at a loss as to how to help her and ease her burden. This factory job is grueling, and she is too intelligent and spirited to have to waste her life in such a place as that."

"I agree," Joly said eagerly. "So have you had an idea of how to help? Or found another job for her?"

"Not exactly. Marius has, though, and he brought it up to me this morning. Part of me thinks it is absolutely ludicrous, but then another part of me wonders if it could work..."

"And?"

"Marius suggested marriage."

"To who?" Joly asked curiously.

Enjolras sighed. "To me. He thinks Gabrielle should marry me."

Joly looked at him blankly for a moment, blinking his eyes like a barn owl, then suddenly began laughing uproariously. "Married? To you?"

Enjolras frowned. He didn't really think it was anything to laugh about.

"No offense, Enjolras, but I've never been able to picture you as a married man," Joly admitted. "But what do _you _think about this?"

"I don't know, but I certainly don't think it is a laughing matter. This is serious, Joly; Gabrielle's happiness is entirely at stake, along what she is able to make of her life. Feuilly would be devastated to see how the light seems to have gone out of her eyes lately."

Joly held up a placating hand. "I'm sorry. You're right, it is serious. But...you? Married? Do you really think you could be a good husband to her? To _anyone?_"

"Why not?" Enjolras found himself rather offended. "I would respect her as an equal, and I challenge you to find many other men in Paris that would do the same. I even find her a genuinely interesting individual. We could perhaps even be real friends."

"Exactly..." Joly explained patiently. "Gabrielle is an intelligent and passionate young woman, Enjolras. I am sure she would appreciate your friendship, but in a husband...don't you think she would rather prefer love? She does not strike me as the type that would marry only for convenience, or to make things easier on herself."

"Still," Enjolras protested, "Perhaps it would at least be worth talking over with her? Yes, it would be about convenience, but I believe we would get along just fine. I have no interest in romance, it is true, but I would not stifle her and I can provide a comfortable life. She could write her novels and never have to do another speck of manual labor in her life if she doesn't want to." Enjolras found he was actually convincing himself more than anything as he talked. The more he thought the issue through, the smarter it seemed. He knew he would never have an interest in marrying anyone for love, so why not to save a bright, intelligent young woman from a life of drudgery and toil? There were worse women he could tie himself to for eternity.

Joly didn't say anything for a minute, but looked thoughtful. "I don't know, Enjolras...I suppose I can see why Marius suggested it. It would solve a lot of problems and it would certainly make Gabrielle's life easier, at least on the surface. But, where matters of the heart are concerned..."

"Since when has marriage been about the heart?" Enjolras scoffed. "More often than not, it is nothing more than a business arrangement."

"Perhaps it shouldn't be. And she is a writer," Joly pointed out. "That means she probably has a keen understanding of human emotions and probably very deep ones of her own."

"Are you implying I'm shallow?"

"I don't think anyone would ever accuse you of being shallow, Enjolras, but I do think they could perhaps call you a bit one-dimensional. You have only ever had one thing on your mind, and it is not love or women." Joly was serious.

"Still, " Enjolras insisted. "Gabrielle will have her own opinion on all of this. It couldn't hurt to ask her and talk it over. Perhaps she will surprise you."

"I don't know," Joly hesitated. "What would Feuilly think of you marrying his _sister?_ Marriage means...well." Joly gave him a pointed look.

Enjolras glared at him, well aware of how his friends had always made fun of his lack of interest in the fairer sex. It wasn't that he didn't notice women, or that he didn't have the same urges they all did...it was just that most women annoyed him, sooner rather than later. He found them vapid, and any urges he had were quickly squashed as soon as they opened their mouths. So far, he had found Gabrielle tolerable, however, and he believed they could get along quite well.

"I would not expect that of her, Joly. If it were to happen between us someday, then I would not object," he admitted. "But I would make it _very _clear to her that having her in my bed is not a requirement for our marriage."

"And what if she desires children?"

Enjolras winced – that was an issue he had always held firm on. He couldn't imagine bringing a helpless little soul into this unfair and cruel world, where fortunes could turn in an instant. Gavroche's face flashed through his mind and Enjolras felt his chest tightening; the young _gamin_ was an example of exactly why Enjolras couldn't imagine ever becoming a father. Look what happened when parents died or abandoned their children. They starved on the streets of Paris, barely scraping by from day to day, desperate for love and affection.

"Well?" Joly prompted, and Enjolras was shaken out of his silent musings.

"I suppose that is something I would have to consider," he said diplomatically.

Joly shrugged in defeat. "Then speak to her about it, if you must. But I hope you understand that this would change your life forever. And hers."

"That is what I'm hoping," Enjolras said quietly.

* * *

Enjolras waited outside of the factory that evening, and Gabrielle stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him. "Antoine! What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you, obviously. Would you like to have dinner with me? I have something I need to speak to you about..." He offered her his arm, looking strangely nervous. Gabrielle looked at him curiously and they began walking.

"What is it you need?"

"I think it is best discussed over some food and good wine." Enjolras looked at her sideways and tried to smile, though it came out more like a grimace.

Gabrielle's curiosity was piqued, along with her nerves. It didn't seem like it could be anything good.

They walked to a small café and Gabrielle sat, letting Enjolras wander to the bar and order wine. He came back with a whole bottle and Gabrielle rose her eyebrows as he poured them both a glass. "Is alcohol a requirement for this subject we are to discuss?" Gabrielle asked.

Enjolras avoided her eyes, adjusting his waistcoat and surveying their surroundings. "Yes," he said simply, and sat, taking a sip of the wine. "This may be one of the most awkward conversations of my life thus far."

Gabrielle laughed nervously, surprised at his transparency. "What in the world is this about, Antoine? You aren't acting like yourself, and seem half terrified. It can't possibly be that bad."

"Believe me, you're going to need it, too. Drink." He gestured to the wine and Gabrielle took a sip, staring at him incredulously. "Now, before I begin, I need you to promise you will listen with an open mind and not make any hasty judgments."

"Alright. Please, begin; I am waiting with baited breath," Gabrielle joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Enjolras cleared his throat and straightened, ready to argue his case, Gabrielle could tell. Her jokes did nothing to change his solemn nature.

"As you know, I have been rather unhappy with your new employment, for no other reason than that the work is tiring, you seem unhappy, and I feel that I am not truly keeping my promise to your brother. It causes me immense guilt, Gabrielle, thinking that this could be your life from now on, that everything you have to offer the world could be squandered beneath the exhaustion and the monotony of the day to day. It isn't fair." Enjolras paused, his eyes conflicted, and Gabrielle could tell his mind was in another place.

He shook his head, snapping himself out of his memories, and continued. "Now, when Marius broached this subject earlier, I was quick to brush him off, but the more I have weighed it in my mind, the more I seem to see the sense in it, and I hope that before immediately saying no, you will at least consider my proposal." Enjolras seemed to find a sudden humor in his words and laughed at himself, mumbling, "Literally," under his breath.

Gabrielle gazed at him, wondering if Enjolras had lost his mind. She had never seen him like this before, so unsure of himself and awkward, yet arguing his case with an articulate beauty, every inch the lawyer. "Really, Antoine, what are you trying to ask me? I'm rather baffled..."

"Well, to be blunt...I can offer you a comfortable and safe life, Gabrielle. You could write your novels, concentrate all of your time and effort on them. Or do anything else you wanted to, it wouldn't matter to me. I will give you anything you want, or nothing at all. And I...well, I wonder if you would..." He suddenly lost his nerve and winced, rubbing his forehead. He looked younger than his twenty-three years. "That is, I wonder if you would consider becoming my wife."

Gabrielle was too stunned for words, and wondered if she had actually heard him correctly. Had he just proposed to her? "You...are asking me to marry you?"

"Yes."

"And...this is something you think is a good solution for the problem that you see? This is how you think my financial difficulties can be solved?"

"Well, yes, essentially." He leaned forward, gesturing to the window. "Gabrielle, when was the last time you actually saw the sun? The last time you were able to do something you wanted to do? The last time you were able to use your creativity, your mind, to create something beautiful? If we were to marry, you could do as you please all the time. I would never presume to tell you what to do or try to make you something you are not..."

Gabrielle couldn't help herself and burst into laughter, covering her eyes. "This is absurd, Antoine! Do you truly know what you are asking? Marriage is...well, marriage is _forever!_ Until death!"

"And we both know how unexpected and swiftly death can come," Enjolras said gently. "Gabrielle, forgive me if I speak out of turn, but I have noticed that I seem to be your only friend in the world right now. You have no family, no other ties. Is that correct?"

Gabrielle sobered and nodded slowly. It was an embarrassing fact, but true. "Yes, I suppose. You are all I have, and I only have you because of your absolutely skewed sense of duty..."

"You call it skewed, but I call it honorable. And that really just proves my point," he said smugly. "Whether you agree to marry me or not, I will not leave you alone. I owe your brother, and I owe _you_ my life, whatever pathetic little is left of it. If you are going to be irrevocably tied to me anyway, why can we not make it official? Let me help you the most that I can."

Gabrielle sighed and looked at him wonderingly. "Antoine, don't you think you might actually find a woman you love one day? What if that should happen and you are already married to me? Then you would feel nothing but resentment."

He shook his head adamantly. "Believe me, Gabrielle, I have no time or interest in love. The only thing I have ever loved is the dream of what I believe my country could be."

"That isn't true," Gabrielle protested. "You love your friends; you _deeply _love your friends. You are most certainly capable of a deep and passionate love. I can't imagine that you won't ever turn that love to a woman." She blushed at the intimate nature of their conversation, but felt these things needed to be said if he was really as serious as he said he was.

He looked out the window in contemplation for several moments. Finally, he turned his fervent gaze to her. "If that is true, then would it be so bad if it were you?"

Gabrielle blushed deeper, her mouth falling open slightly at his implication and the visions that unexpectedly appeared in her mind. "I..., well, I..." she stumbled, not knowing what to say.

Enjolras pressed on, and Gabrielle was surprised to see some of the fire he had been missing since the barricade flaming in his eyes. "Of course, Gabrielle, I wouldn't expect anything of you. _Nothing._ I desperately want to help you, and I believe we could be friends. I could think of worse ways to spend the rest of my days than with you." He managed a small smile.

"I can't give you an answer right now," Gabrielle whispered. She couldn't seem to find her voice. "I need to think about all you have said and offered..."

"Of course. Take all the time you need. And if you decide against it, I will not be offended or discouraged, Gabrielle. Whatever you decide, I will always be your friend."

Gabrielle stared at Enjolras, half baffled by all that had been said and half touched. Even though her thoughts were in turmoil, she couldn't help but wonder...what _would_ if be like to be married to such a remarkable man?

* * *

**I can't stop writing, y'all, it's bad. **

**This chapter is obviously a game changer. :) Things start getting a bit more fun from here on out! Please, please, please review and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!**


	9. Chapter IX

Chapter IX

Three days went by, and neither Enjolras or Gabrielle had spoken another word about Enjolras' offer of marriage. Gabrielle wasn't sure how long he was going to give her to think, but so far, his behavior hadn't changed. He treated her no differently, and still seemed much more quiet and withdrawn than he had been before the barricade. Gabrielle supposed it was a natural reaction; after all, who was there now for him to talk to or confide in? Joly had Musichetta and Marius had Cosette.

And Enjolras had Gabrielle, simply by default.

That was the problem, really, she mused one day while at work. Did she want to be paired with someone simply because there was no one _else _available? Her pride recoiled at that, even though her mind could see the sense in it. After all, why shouldn't she become closer to Enjolras? They _were _the only ones left, and he was insistent that he would continue to be in her life in some capacity. But as a husband? It seemed crazy.

_Then why does the thought of marrying him make my heart beat faster?_ She wondered. She couldn't deny that she had always found Enjolras attractive, and when she watched him command the room in the Musain, she had been captivated by his charm and charisma. He had intrigued her with his serious and compelling conversation, and he had been one of the only men she'd ever met that had treated her as an equal, who was interested in her thoughts and opinions. Even though she had never voiced the thought or even let herself consciously admit it, Gabrielle knew that she had kept going back to the meetings of the _Les Amis _because she wanted to speak to and see Enjolras. That was unlike her, as she had always been more attracted to the heroes she read about in books than the men she met in real life. And even though it was a perfectly natural reaction for an nineteen year old girl to have, she was strangely embarrassed by it.

There was also no denying he was a marvel to look at, with those golden curls and chiseled jaw...

_You are acting like an ignorant schoolgirl!_ She chastised herself. _None of that should factor into your decision._

Or, should it? How could it not? How could she not consider her feelings for him when deciding whether or not to accept his offer of marriage? And how could she not consider his feelings, or lack thereof, for her? Could she really marry someone who only saw her as an obligation?

_Or does he really see me that way?_ Gabrielle thought rather hopefully. The way he sometimes looked at her, the way he talked to her and seemed to value her words, he way he had offered to walk her home that one time, the way he let her hold his hand, his thumb ghosting over her wrist. Perhaps, even Enjolras, the man supposedly made of marble, had some feelings for her that he wasn't quite ready to explore or explain? There was so much to consider and think about, it made Gabrielle's head ache.

"Mademoiselle Feuilly!"

Gabrielle jumped at the sound of her name, and looked up to see the face of the foreman inches from her own.

"You have been standing idle for the last two minutes. You do understand you have a job to do?" he asked condescendingly. The foreman's face was red with anger, as it usually was, and Gabrielle bit her tongue, reminding herself that no matter what she really wanted to say, she had to be polite.

"I am sorry, Monsieur. My mind was somewhere else. I apologize."

He frowned at her. "Obviously. Get back to work or you'll see yourself out the door."

Gabrielle nodded and lowered her eyes demurely, though she could feel frustration building inside of her. Could she truly endure men like the incompetent foreman for the rest of her life? Could she stand people treating her like she had no desires and ambitions, no mind of her own? She didn't know, but every time she was reminded of these things, marrying Enjolras looked a little bit better than it had before.

* * *

Gabrielle walked home slowly that evening, enjoying the light breeze and warm summer air after being stuck inside the stuffy factory all day. Despite the beautiful weather, her mind was still reeling. She had no idea what to do, but was becoming more and more sure that if she chose not to marry Enjolras, she would be condemning herself to a life of misery. There was simply no happy ending for a poor working girl in Paris with no family or name for herself.

But, if she married Enjolras, everything was uncertain. There was a small, but comforting hope in that uncertainty. She didn't know what exactly their marriage would entail, but made up her mind as she entered the apartment that it was time to have another serious, hypothetical, talk.

He was sitting at the desk by the window, reading in the quickly fading sunlight. He turned and smiled in greeting as she came in. "_Bonjour, _Gabrielle."

"Can we talk?" Gabrielle asked nervously.

"Of course." Enjolras shut his book and pivoted in the chair, sitting backwards and letting his arms rest on the top. "What do you need?"

Gabrielle smoothed her skirt, a nervous habit, and leaned against the back of the sofa. "I've been thinking about your offer and I have some questions."

Enjolras nodded encouragingly. "Of course. I imagine we have much to discuss if you are seriously considering it?"

Did he actually look hopeful?

"Yes, well...I suppose...well..." she stumbled over her words, unsure where to even begin.

He waited, gazing at her evenly, and betraying no hint of the nerves he had shown the other night when bringing it up for the first time.

She tried again, taking a calming deep breath. "I've realized over the last few days that I really only have two options: working for the rest of my life in a job I hate and barely making it by, or marrying you and facing something completely unknown. I suppose I am wondering what I could expect should I accept your proposal?"

Enjolras considered for a moment and follower her question with one of his own. "In what regard?"

"You mentioned the other evening that you would not expect me to work unless I wanted to? That I could work on my writing and perhaps try to be published?"

"Absolutely. There is no need for you to work, I have money. I am aware you wouldn't know it from looking around this apartment, but..." he smiled wryly, "I have spent it on other things."

Mainly a failed revolution, Gabrielle guessed.

"But it is your money," Gabrielle protested quietly. "How could I take it in good conscience?"

"Because you would be my wife," Enjolras said sincerely. "And I believe that entitles you to everything I have. It would no longer be mine, but ours."

Gabrielle sighed, shaking her head in wonder. This conversation was beyond absurd. "And...what about...?" she trailed off, embarrassed at her current train of thought and much too modest to know how to really ask.

Enjolras raised his eyebrows questioningly, waiting for her to continue.

"Where would I sleep?" Gabrielle finally asked, her cheeks flushing.

"Oh." Enjolras modestly looked away. "Well. I don't expect that from you," he said quietly, turning a bit red himself. "That is, I don't expect you in my bed..."

As she was wont to do when feeling awkward, Gabrielle joked, "Then I suppose I will continue to sleep on the _sofa?_ Is that how you would treat your wife?"

Enjolras gaped at her; Gabrielle had forgotten that he wasn't really one for jokes or sarcasm. "I was teasing," she said lamely. "I don't mind..."

"You would take the bed, of course. Or, we would share it? But not like that..." Enjolras rolled his eyes and waved a hand. "That's a small matter. I'll buy another one if you want it," he said impatiently, and Gabrielle could tell he was uncomfortable.

She found it endearing, and couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing seemed. "I'm sorry, but it's actually rather fun to see you like this. I suppose I could get used to it..." _Oh God, am I trying to flirt with him?_ She was suddenly mortified.

Enjolras gave her a pointed look, but didn't reply. He was soon back to business. "Like I said before, Gabrielle, I would expect nothing form you but hopefully your friendship. I think we could be happy, in a way."

"I think you could be right," Gabrielle admitted. She finally relaxed enough to sink down onto the sofa, and Enjolras came to join her. "I have to admit that I'm rather miserable," she said quietly. "I _hate _my job, and I can't imagine doing it forever. But then, I hate myself for wondering if I would be using you just to get away from it."

"I can understand that. But honestly, I deserve to be used," Enjolras said sincerely. "I took your brother from you, and in return, all you are left with is me, and that is a rather pathetic consolation."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes and looked at him. "Honestly, Antoine. I understand your guilt. I promise I do. But I absolutely will not marry you if I have to hear that excuse for the rest of my days."

He looked at her for a moment, then suddenly snorted in laughter, surprising Gabrielle. "I can see you will at least be honest with me."

Gabrielle smiled, happy she had actually made him laugh, a rare occurrence even before. "I am nothing if not honest, much like yourself. In fact, I think we will either get along quite well or have terrible fights."

"Either could be entertaining, I suppose."

_ Is _he _flirting with _me?

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. After her horrible day, Gabrielle was actually beginning to feel rather optimistic. She didn't know what the future would bring with Enjolras, and found the unknown to be strangely exciting.

He finally spoke, his voice a bit uncertain again. "Does this mean you're going to say yes?"

Gabrielle looked at him, finding that her mind was made up. "Yes."

"Yes?" Enjolras looked skeptical, his already large eyes widening.

Gabrielle nodded. "Yes. I am saying yes. I accept. I will marry you." She felt her heart stop for a second as her breath hitched in her chest, a moment of panic that mirrored the look crossing Enjolras' face.

He soon wiped it away and ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. "Well. Alright then. I suppose I will begin to make arrangements. I need to write my mother..."

Gabrielle gaped. "Your _mother?"_ How stupid of her to not consider any family he may have. "Oh God, what will she think? How could she possibly agree to you marrying _me?_"

Enjolras frowned at her and shook his head. "I am not worried about her in the slightest. She will have no objections to me marrying, believe me. She has been convinced I would die alone and unhappy for years..."

Gabrielle stared. "Well, you still may die unhappy, we certainly can't see the future."

Enjolras smiled again. "I'll just tell her I fell madly in love. She'll believe me, I haven't seen her in three years. We write often, but aren't really that close."

Gabrielle blushed a bit, even though the bit about falling madly in love was clearly not true. "Why haven't you seen her? Are you on bad terms?"

"No, not at all. I greatly admire my mother," Enjolras said. "But I grew up anxious to leave and come to the city. It is dull and boring there, and once my father died four years ago...I just don't really wish to go back," he admitted.

"I didn't know your father had passed. I'm sorry."

Enjolras shrugged. "Thank you, but it's fine. He was sick. He was a good man, though, and my mother is a good woman. A little fanciful, which is why she will be happy to see me 'settle down.'"

"She won't object to me being...well, having nothing? I'm rather beneath you, Antoine, and everyone knows you could do better," Gabrielle said self-consciously.

"Nonsense. Actually, you're one of the few women I actually enjoy talking to," he said contemplatively.

"Oh." Gabrielle bit her lip, feeling flattered and hopeful again. It _was_ easy to talk to him, nice even. "But will your mother agree?"

"It wouldn't matter either way, as I do what I please," he said firmly. "But yes, she will agree. Where do you think my revolutionary ideals came from? She doesn't care about social classes." A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. Enjolras had smiled more tonight than he had in the last month, Gabrielle noticed.

"Will she want to come here? Or..." A terrifying thought suddenly crossed her mind. "We don't have to have an actual _wedding__**, **_will we?"

Enjolras looked panicked at the thought and quickly shook his head. "No," he said emphatically. "Not if you don't want to. I don't. We'll do it as simply as possible, of course. And as quickly as you care to..."

Gabrielle hadn't even contemplated when. "Oh, well...whenever you think is best? I don't see any sense is putting it off. If we wait too long both of us may come to our senses," she said wryly.

"I will make arrangements, then. Perhaps even by the end of the week?"

Gabrielle nodded, suddenly feeling like she was on the edge of a chasm, ready to step off the edge. This was forever. This was unalterable. There was no going back from here.

* * *

The next few days flew by, and Gabrielle never went back to the factory. As soon as Cosette found out about Enjolras and Gabrielle's impending marriage, she insisted on taking Gabrielle shopping for a new wardrobe. (Which told Gabrielle that someone had indeed noticed her pathetic clothing during their little dinner party.) She was reluctant to accept at first, as she didn't want to ask Enjolras for money, but then Cosette waved a little purse at her. Enjolras had been one step ahead of her and already given the funds to Cosette.

Gabrielle spent the day being fitted for dresses, new shoes, and hats; despite the waste she felt nice clothes were, Gabrielle found it was actually rather exciting to be pampered and fussed over. Cosette also reminded her that she would soon be the wife of a young lawyer, and Gabrielle would need to make a good impression on any future work colleagues Enjolras may have, and dressing well was one way to do that. Gabrielle hadn't thought that far into the future, though in only a few months Enjolras would be done with university, and she found the prospect of being a society wife a little terrifying.

She would be married in a dress of dark blue silk with beautiful off the shoulder, puffed sleeves, and a trim of white lace around the neck and hem. They had to wait for over a week for it to be complete, and the simple civil marriage ceremony was scheduled for the very next day.

Gabrielle had never worn such an expensive garment, and when Musichetta helped her dress on her wedding day, Gabrielle felt like a different person as she stared at herself in the mirror. The rich blue fabric of the dress contrasted with the paleness of her skin, and her dark curls were pinned up gracefully with several little pearl hair clasps Cosette gave her. Even Enjolras was cognizant enough to notice her appearance as she exited the bedroom to find Marius, Cosette, and Enjolras waiting for her.

"We're going to give you two a moment. We will meet you downstairs." Cosette smiled happily after telling Gabrielle how radiant she looked and led Marius out of the apartment. Gabrielle watched them go with apprehension, and found it a little funny that even though Cosette knew their reasons for getting married, she still found the day to be a happy and romantic occasion.

Gabrielle could feel Enjolras' eyes sweeping over her figure and she finally turned to meet his gaze. "I'm not used to a dress so fine as this one..." Her fingers played over the soft blue silk nervously.

"It suits you," he said quietly. "You look very beautiful, Gabrielle."

Gabrielle could tell from the set of his jaw that he was as anxious as she was, but he still stood straight and tall, an imposing and handsome figure.

"Thank you. You look quite well, too, Antoine." She managed a small smile and took his arm, letting him lead her out of the apartment and down the stairs to the street. She couldn't help but wonder what her brother would say if he could see this whole debacle; would he be intensely amused at the thought of her marrying Enjolras, or absolutely mortified? She really didn't know.

The ceremony passed by in a blur, with only Marius and Cosette in attendance as witnesses, and Gabrielle was careful to keep her mind blank as she listened to the government officiant. Enjolras was equally grave, repeating his vows with solemnity and grace. He kept his eyes locked on hers as she said her own vows, and at the end of the ceremony, he kissed her chastely on the cheek after slipping a simple, but beautiful, ring on her finger. None of it felt real, and Gabrielle had the insane urge to laugh as she realized she and Enjolras had ironically been married _before_ Marius and Cosette. Could her life have really changed so drastically in only a little under three months? If all of this had happened in such a short amount of time, there was no telling what the coming years would bring. It was a comfort, though, she had to admit, to know that she would not face them alone.

* * *

**First of all, happy birthday to one of my nice reviewers, Caroliina! And thank you so much to everyone else that's consistently reviewing.**

**Secondly, I had some really crappy news yesterday. A friend and colleague that was in the same teaching program as me has gone missing. She was last seen at 4 am in the parking lot of a bar with an unknown man. It sounds like something straight out of Dateline, doesn't it? So needless to say, I've been really worried since I found out yesterday afternoon, and as more and more time goes by, I feel less hopeful. She's a second grade teacher, and I know that if she was capable of showing up for work yesterday, she would have been there to teach her babies. So, if you pray, please pray for her. If you just believe in good karma, send some good vibes her way. **

**Happy reading. :)**


	10. Chapter X

Chapter X

That night, Gabrielle and Enjolras avoided the conversation about where they would each sleep until they were both too tired to keep their eyes open anymore.

Finally, Enjolras gave up and began loosening his cravat. "I'm sleeping on the sofa," he said simply.

Gabrielle opened her mouth to protest, but Enjolras held up a hand to stop her. "Really, Gabrielle, I insist. Neither of us are quite comfortable yet and it's been a long day. I want you to begin sleeping in the bedroom."

Gabrielle wasn't going to deny that she did feel uncomfortable – the ring on her finger seemed to weigh a hundred pounds, after all, and she had nervously twirled it around all day, marveling at what it meant. The thought of trying to sleep next to Enjolras was too much on top of everything else. She had never been that close to a man before.

"Alright. I won't argue," she replied. "I suppose I'll retire now, too..."

Their eyes locked for several seconds, neither sure what to say. At last, Gabrielle mumbled, "Sleep well, Antoine," and retreated into the bedroom. She undressed mechanically, fumbling with the buttons on the back of her dress. When she finally climbed into Enjolras' bed, she was more than ready for sleep, but as she laid her head on the pillow, his scent suddenly washed over her. It was a startling moment; even though she had been in his bedroom many times, she had never been in the bed before. This was his space, his _private_ space, and the lingering scent of his sandalwood cologne on the pillow was a sharp reminder of his presence just outside the door.

Gabrielle inhaled, replaying the day in her mind. Nothing seemed real yet, even though the memories of their simple ceremony were fresh. She didn't know how to be a wife even under normal circumstances, but these were certainly less than normal, and she supposed they would have to find their way around day to day. The best way to start seemed to be building a friendship, though, and thankfully, she did think they were well on their way to that. For now, however, Gabrielle had to swallow the small hope inside of her that they could maybe be something more.

* * *

The next few days continued to be awkward and Enjolras and Gabrielle tiptoed around each other. Even though the only thing that had changed was the official status of their relationship, the words 'husband' and 'wife' seemed heavy.

Enjolras tried to be out of the apartment as much as possible, and Gabrielle found a lot of idle time on her hands now that she was no longer working. She began to spend the day downstairs at Musichetta's, helping her with laundry and listening to her funny stories and gossip about all of the other girls she knew. Gabrielle was a bit scandalized by some of them, but Musichetta frequently had her practically rolling on the ground in laughter, too, with her frank and bawdy sense of humor.

After a week of marriage, Gabrielle felt comfortable enough with Musichetta to open up to her a bit. Perhaps she would even have some advice, since she _did _have considerable knowledge when it came to men...

"Musichetta, may I ask you something?"

"Of course," she replied, folding one of Joly's shirts and tucking it away into the wardrobe.

"Well..." Gabrielle hesitated, leaning against the desk in Musichetta's bedroom. "Antoine and I...we..."

Musichetta whirled to face her, eyes lighting up. "Did you sleep with him already?" Musichetta asked excitedly.

Gabrielle gaped, frantically shaking her head. "Musichetta! Of course not!"

Musichetta's face fell. "Oh. And what? Why do you look so scandalized? You are _married_, Gabrielle. It is not that unusual for married people to make love."

Gabrielle's cheeks flushed. "Our circumstances are different, 'Chetta, and you know that. We aren't ready to do that... and perhaps we never will be." Gabrielle shrugged. "He seems so indifferent."

"Oh, believe me, darling, I know that...I was never able to crack him. But he certainly is nice to look at. What was your question, though?"

"Oh, I...well. I wondered, if I _wanted _to get to that point eventually..._being _with him, I mean. Where do I start?" Gabrielle felt mortified. She couldn't believe she was having this conversation.

"In any other circumstance, with any other man, I would be the perfect person to ask," Musichetta said smugly. "But like I said before, Enjolras is a complete mystery to me. Joly insists he isn't attracted to other men, though, so he must like women perfectly well. And I don't see why he wouldn't be attracted to you, Gabrielle. You're quite pretty."

Gabrielle blushed again at Musichetta's frankness and mumbled her thanks. "Maybe I shouldn't even be worrying about this yet," Gabrielle admitted. "It seems silly to think that just because we're married we should be doing _that._ Maybe if we get to know each other a bit better, and I can make myself stop feeling so awkward and strange, we would have a chance," she mused aloud.

"Well, then why don't you start by trying to spend more time with him? Just talk the way you used to. Try to cheer him up a bit, Joly says he is still quite a bear. Of course, I can't blame him...Joly is still sad, too, I often see it in his eyes."

Gabrielle nodded and confessed, "I'm sad, too. I don't think I'll ever stop being sad. Don't you miss Bossuet horribly, Musichetta?"

Musichetta's eyes darkened and she didn't reply for a moment. "Yes. Of course I do. But..." she shrugged and said in a determined tone, "There is no sense wasting time being sad. Life goes on, it must. And we must go on with it. Our loved ones wouldn't want us sitting around mourning for them forever, would they?"

Gabrielle smiled at Musichetta's attitude. "No, I don't think they would. Sometimes, though, I think that is easier said than done. Enjolras said once that he was a pathetic substitute for my brother, but really, I am a pathetic substitute for all of the friends he lost. He still has Joly and Marius to share things with, but I know how close he was to his other friends, too. It must be hard to miss _so many people _so much."

"I'm sure it is, but we can't change the past. What's done is done."

"I know. It still seems unfair." The two women lapsed into silence and Musichetta went back to her work.

Eventually, she asked curiously, "Has Enjolras mentioned the _Les Amis_ meeting again or recruiting new members?"

"No. Has Joly?"

"In a way. He said the other night that he and Marius feel like their job isn't done. But Enjolras won't even talk about it. Perhaps coming back to the issues he was so passionate about in the first place would give him a sense of purpose again?"

"Maybe..." Gabrielle wondered if it would actually have the opposite effect and keep him wallowing in the mistakes he had made, but she didn't share that thought.

Still, Enjolras was such a driven and passionate man. He needed something to fight for, and would probably never be happy until he had regained his drive. Maybe Gabrielle could help, think of _different _ways he could use his talents?

It was at least somewhere to start.

* * *

The next day, Gabrielle decided it was finally time to start writing again. She eyed Enjolras' desk, but it was piled high with books and papers, and she didn't want to move anything important. So, she took her little bound journal, several pens, and a full pot of ink, and went to a café down the street. It had been so long since she had written anything that she first had to look over everything she had written before.

When her pen finally touched the paper, Gabrielle lost track of time. It felt wonderful to write again, to be immersed in her characters and their lives that were so different from her own. They felt more alive to her than she did at the moment, and were a welcome escape from everything that had happened in the last few months.

She only stopped writing once she looked up and realized it was now dusk, and the streetlamps were being lit. Her stomach rumbled hungrily, and her hand was painfully cramped. She rose and stretched, ordering some food to take home, including some extra for Enjolras in case he was hungry. When she finally arrived, she found him in his familiar spot at the desk, reading an assignment for class.

"Good evening!" she said cheerily, and he raised his eyebrows.

"You seem awfully happy tonight," he replied.

"You know what? I am. I wrote all day today, so much I completely lost track of time."

"Where were you?" he asked curiously.

She gave him the name of the café, and then confessed, "I was going to write here, but there's no room on your desk. You're quite messy, you know," she teased.

He grinned and shrugged. "I am a bit disorganized when it comes to work."

Gabrielle laid out the dinner she had brought home and they ate comfortably. Enjolras told her about the lecture he'd heard in class that day, and Gabrielle was able to follow along with the legal terminology fairly easily, though she didn't hesitate to stop and ask questions when she needed to.

"I actually have a confession," Enjolras finally said. "My professor owns a law firm and he offered me a job today. So after exams in a few months, I can begin work right away."

Gabrielle gasped and smiled widely. "Antoine, that's wonderful! Congratulations!" Before she had really even thought about it, she had reached out and grasped his hand. "What an amazing opportunity!"

He looked a bit startled, but didn't pull his hand away. "Thank you."

She finally realized what she had done and slowly withdrew her hand, her gaze only faltering a bit. "Really, I'm very happy for you. I think it's wonderful."

"It will be nice to go right into work," Enjolras admitted. "It will keep me busy. And also, we've been invited to a dinner party next week with some of my future colleagues. You're comfortable accompanying me?"

Gabrielle bit her lip nervously. "Oh, well...I suppose I must. I hope I don't make you look like a fool."

"You would never make me look like a fool, Gabrielle. You will do fine."

Gabrielle put on a smile for the next week, but inside, she was a bundle of nerves. It would be the first time she was ever introduced to anyone as Enjolras' wife. How strange it would be, to have people looking at the pair of them as newlyweds, and thinking about how in love the young couple must be.

When the day came, Gabrielle fussed endlessly over her appearance, something she had _never _done before. She even had Cosette come help her, and bless her, she was thoughtful enough to bring a lovely necklace for Gabrielle to wear. When Enjolras finally arrived home from class, Gabrielle was ready. He stopped in the bedroom doorway to admire her, looking her up and down approvingly.

"You look very nice."

"Do I? Thank you, I've been worrying all day. Is it too fancy? Or not enough? Cosette says it's fine..." Gabrielle blushed when she realized she was rambling. That seemed to happen whenever she was nervous.

"I'm sure you will fit in perfectly. I will be the envy of every man there."

Gabrielle grinned, fondly remembering the night he had walked her home from the Musain and she had thought the same thing, that all of the girls would envy her for being with him. "Thank you. And please, promise you'll pinch me if I'm doing something awfully embarrassing. I'll shut up right away then."

Enjolras laughed and ushered her out of the bedroom so he could get dressed. Gabrielle waited patiently, trying to read a novel, but going over the proper etiquette for a dinner party in her mind. She had seem plenty at the de Sauveterre house, but never participated.

When Enjolras was ready, they hailed a _fiacre_ to the Durand residence, and Gabrielle was relieved to see that it was not nearly as grand or imposing as the de Sauveterre house or Monsieur Gillenormand's mansion. It was beautiful and stately, but not overly huge and ornate. Gabrielle took Enjolras' arm as they walked to the front door. They were ushered in by the butler and Monsieur Durand came out to meet them.

"Antoine, my boy, it is lovely to see you. Thank you for coming." Enjolras shook his professor's hand.

"Good evening, Monsieur. This is my wife, Gabrielle." Enjolras' cheeks colored a bit at the word, but Monsieur Durand didn't notice. He took Gabrielle's hand and began leading her into the parlour, where several more people waited.

"I must confess, my dear, it was quite a shock when we learned Antoine had gotten married! He had never even mentioned having his sights set on a beautiful young lady, but seeing you now, I am not surprised. I am glad you are able to join us this evening." Monsieur Durand had dark, piercing eyes, but they twinkled merrily as he grinned at Gabrielle. She found she liked him instantly.

"Thank you, Monsieur, you are too kind_."_

"_Bonjour_, you must be Madame Enjolras? I am Genevieve Durand. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Gabrielle turned to Madame Durand and curtseyed politely. "Thank you for inviting us this evening, Madame. You have a lovely home."

Madame Durand looked at her evenly, and Gabrielle sensed she was being appraised by the woman. "It will be nice for us to have some fresh blood among us," Madame Durand smiled. "It has been quite a while since my husband hired one so young to his law firm. Your husband must be impressive."

Gabrielle cocked her head and gazed at Enjolras, who was now across the room talking to the men. He kept giving her furtive glances, making sure she was alright. "I think he is most impressive, yes," Gabrielle said confidently. "But I may be a bit biased."

"What do you do while your husband is at class, Madame Enjolras?"

Gabrielle wasn't used to being addressed by her new last name, and she found it strange. "Please, call me Gabrielle. And...well, I write. I have been searching for other things to fill my time, though," she confessed.

Another woman, older than Madame Durand, perked up. "We can always use one more in our sewing circle."

Another said, "And I do know we have been discussing some charity work. Are you interested in helping the less fortunate, Gabrielle?"

Gabrielle smiled, thinking about how she had nearly _been _one of the less fortunate not so very long ago at all. "Yes. In fact, that is an issue my husband and I are both quite passionate about."

Madame Durand smiled slyly and leaned closer to Gabrielle. "Ah, so that is why my husband thinks so highly of Monsieur Enjolras. Tell me, Gabrielle, what did your husband think of the death of General Lamarque?" Her question was absurdly unexpected.

Gabrielle stared at Madame Durand. She didn't know how to respond – was the woman baiting her or was it an innocent question? What if Gabrielle's answer somehow got Enjolras in trouble? He _had _recruited most of the _Les Amis_ from the university, and Monsieur Durand was a professor. What if they were suspicious of him and the part he had played in the barricade? Gabrielle thought all of this in a split second, but she was rescued from answering by Enjolras' own voice close to her side.

"I was deeply affected, Madame, as I believe all who shared General Lamarque's views on equality and justice were."

Gabrielle let out a breath and moved closer to Enjolras, laying her hand on his arm. His eyes were steely, and Gabrielle could tell he wasn't quite sure what to make of this line of questioning, either. One thing was certain, however, and that was that he wouldn't let anyone scare him. He was commanding again, confident and strong, and Gabrielle felt a rush of pride as she gazed at him.

"Come now, Genevieve," Monsieur Durand's voice suddenly broke into their conversation. "There is no need to dig for information this way. Like I told you before, I would hire no one that I know does not share our beliefs."

Enjolras looked a bit startled at Monsieur Durand's words and kept silent.

Gabrielle looked from one to the other and then asked quietly, "And what beliefs would those be, Monsieur?"

Enjolras put a hand on the small of her back, ready to lead her out the door if need be, but Monsieur Durand answered gaily, as if there was nothing to it, "That a republic would be best for the country, of course. We know all about your little secret society, Antoine."

Enjolras raised his eyebrows, but still didn't say anything.

"Your friend Monsieur Combeferre told me all about it," Monsieur Durand said in a more gentle tone. "He was quite a close pupil of mine, did you know that?"

Gabrielle watched Enjolras closely, wondering how this strange turn of events would affect him.

He looked calm, the only thing betraying any kind of inner turmoil being the tightening of his jaw. "No, I did not know that, Monsieur."

Monsieur Durand waved a hand. "I don't think this is exactly the time or place to discuss it, my boy, but rest assured that all who are here this evening and who work for me share your beliefs."

"I didn't see any of you fighting with us," Enjolras said quietly, and Gabrielle tightened her hand on his sleeve at the slightly confrontational tone she detected.

Monsieur Durand smiled calmly. "No. And that is also something we will discuss later. I am sorry my wife brought up this issue so abruptly, Antoine. Do you think that perhaps, for now, we can put it aside and have a nice, relaxing evening? Discuss the work you will soon be doing with us?"

Enjolras hesitated and glanced at Gabrielle. She smiled encouragingly, and finally, Enjolras replied, "Yes. Of course."

Gabrielle sighed in relief.

She certainly had not expected her first dinner party to be like _this._

* * *

As soon as they climbed into the waiting _fiacre_ to go home, Gabrielle turned to Enjolras and exclaimed, "What in the world was _that?!"_

Enjolras smiled wryly and leaned back against the seat. "Enlightening is one word I could use."

"Did you have any idea what we were walking into? Why he hired you?"

Enjolras shook his head. "No. Honestly, I didn't. I knew I liked him, that he seemed like a nice man. But I didn't know he knew, and I didn't know Combeferre..." Enjolras stopped, wincing as he said his friend's name.

"You didn't know he confided in him," Gabrielle finished. "I wonder how Combeferre knew Monsiur Durand believes in a republic?"

"There's no telling. Combeferre was...well, he was more observant than me," Enjolras said quietly. "More interested in people, in talking to them, in listening to them. He had a great interest in education. Perhaps that is why he began talking to Monsieur Durand."

"I suppose you will find out soon enough," Gabrielle said, then smiled brightly. "But Antoine, just think! You are going to be working for people who believe the same things you do. This is your second chance, Antoine, to keep fighting..."

He looked at her and frowned. "Like I said before, Gabrielle, I didn't see any of _them _on the barricade with us. I don't call that much of a fight."

"There are other ways to fight, Antoine," Gabrielle said softly. "Many other ways."

Enjolras didn't respond, and they said nothing else until they were back in the apartment and bid each other good night.

Gabrielle went into the bedroom and undressed, carefully laying Cosette's necklace on the nightstand. She climbed into bed and crawled over to the side nearest the wall. There was a small window there, and Gabrielle pushed the shutters open a bit to look out into the street. It was quiet, with only a few people milling about. The moon was nearly full, casting long shadows on the ground. Gabrielle liked this window – she liked being able to peer down at the world and watch it go by, feeling a bit distant from it all.

She turned as the bedroom door opened with a creak, and Enjolras stood in the doorway, bathed in moonlight.

She said nothing, though she wondered what he was doing, and they stared at each other for several seconds until Enjolras tentatively crossed the room. "We may as well get used to this," he mumbled uncertainly and gestured to the bed. "That is, if you don't mind?"

Gabrielle shook her head and pulled the shutters closed, crawling beneath the covers. "No, I don't mind."

Enjolras nervously ran a hand through his hair and laid down on the other side of the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Gabrielle turned on her side and gazed at his profile, still illuminated in the cracks of light peeking in from the window. It was strangely comforting having him beside her.

"_Bonne nuit_, Antoine," she whispered before closing her eyes.

* * *

**Well, hey, there's a _little _****action there at the end. :)**

**Thank you for all of the reviews for the last chapter, and all of the kind words about my friend. She is still missing, unfortunately, and no one is very hopeful. **

**And I'm sorry I misspelled your name Carollina. That's what updating at 6:50 am before going to work does to you. haha**

**OH. And. If anyone is interested in hearing me sing "On My Own," it's uploaded on my YouTube channel - just search for irishsongbird85. (There's also some freaking adorable videos of my first graders! They won't be public for too much longer, though, just giving my family some time to watch them.)**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	11. Chapter XI

Chapter XI

Marius and Cosette were married in mid-September, and Gabrielle and Enjolras attended the affair only briefly. Enjolras pulled her out of the crowd and into a _fiacre_ rather abruptly almost as soon as the dancing began, his face white and eyes troubled. He refused to say anything about their unexpected exit other than that he had spotted some people he didn't wish to talk to. Gabrielle thought it was rather something more than that, but left the matter alone.

The next day, a note arrived from Marius informing them of Cosette's father passing away, and Gabrielle spent the next few days with her new friend, consoling her in her grief. The funeral brought up some rather unpleasant feelings for Gabrielle, however, and she could tell Enjolras was struggling as much as she was.

That night she went to bed early and laid awake for hours, staring at the wall, and replaying the scene of the barricade in her mind. She had chosen Enjolras over her own brother, left his body there to be tossed aside by the merciless soldiers. Left him there to lay where he'd fallen. He didn't get to have a proper burial, a proper goodbye. She didn't even know where his final resting place was.

How could she have chosen Enjolras over her brother? Gabrielle buried her face in the pillow as a sob escaped her chest. She hadn't let herself think of these things since that day in June, had forced herself to put it out of her mind and move on. Now she couldn't stop thinking.

_Stop it,_ she told herself. _Of course you chose to save Enjolras. He was the only one alive. What kind of person would you be if you'd left him there to die?_

Gabrielle stilled as she heard the bedroom door open and Enjolras come in. She took deep breaths, trying to still her shaking shoulders, and hoped that in the dark, Enjolras wouldn't notice her tears. She heard him undress and felt him climb into bed, but kept her back to him. She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears still kept coming.

"Gabrielle? Are you alright?" Enjolras whispered with concern.

She wiped her cheeks and managed to squeak, "I'm fine."

"No you're not," Enjolras said matter-of-factly, and Gabrielle let out a half-laugh, half-sob.

"No, I'm not," she agreed.

Enjolras didn't say anything, but sat up in bed, looking completely unsure what to do.

Gabrielle took a deep breath and sat up, as well. She could only imagine how she looked; her hair a mess, eyes swollen, nose red, skin blotchy. She didn't look beautiful when she cried like Cosette did.

"I'm sorry," she finally whispered. "It's just...today made me think of my brother. It made me miss him, and feel so horrible. I don't..." She swallowed, resisting more tears. "I don't know where he is buried."

Enjolras' eyes softened as he looked at her. "I know. I feel the same as you," he admitted. "I don't know where any of my friends are. Today was hard for me, too."

Gabrielle scooted closer and abruptly wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest. She felt his heart speed up against her cheek at the unexpected closeness, and she couldn't believe how bold she was being. But she needed it, had wanted to feel his arms around her, wanted some kind of physical comfort. She closed her eyes and didn't move, and soon she felt Enjolras' arms tentatively pulling her closer and holding her securely to his body.

He rested his chin on the top of her head and Gabrielle's tears soon subsided. It felt wonderful, being so close, fitting against him so perfectly. She began to feel more at ease, and eventually, pulled away just a little bit to look up at him. He looked back at her intently, and a little nervously, she thought.

He lifted a hand and brushed her hair back from her face, letting his fingers sift through the dark strands of her hair. She felt his hands on the sides of her neck, his thumbs gently wiping the rest of the tears from her cheeks. She smiled a little, surprised at how gentle his touch was.

"Thank you," she whispered, and he nodded, letting his hands fall slowly back to his sides.

Gabrielle scooted away and climbed under the covers as Enjolras did the same. Instead of turning away as she usually did, however, she lay on her side and faced him, and he turned to look back at her. They studied each other in the darkness, and soon, Gabrielle felt his hand envelope her own under the covers. She squeezed, feeling something beginning to shift between them. It was unexpected, but felt comfortable.

"You were brave that day," Enjolras finally spoke. "I can't imagine what it must have taken to get me out of there, and to leave your brother behind. I owe you my life, Gabrielle."

"You do," she admitted, and smiled a little. "But it wasn't a hard choice to make. My brother would have wanted me to save anyone I could have. And I'm glad it was you."

"You miss him terribly, though," Enjolras said sadly.

"Of course I do. But, as Musichetta has told me before, life goes on. We can't let grief consume us or we waste our lives. I do wish I had something to remember him by, though." Gabrielle closed her eyes, picturing her favorite fan in the shop window, the one she had seen that day after the barricade, of Orpheus and the water nymphs.

"You have nothing of his?" Enjolras sounded a bit shocked.

"No. He lived above the shop, and I had no keys. I went by once, when you were still very ill, but it was locked. I would assume his things have been sold or thrown away by now," she said sadly.

Enjolras frowned. "He did such beautiful work."

"He did. There was a fan in the window," Gabrielle sighed. "It was perfect, I think my favorite that he's ever painted. I wish I could have taken it somehow."

"What did it look like?"

Gabrielle described the scene, the way the colors blended together on the soft silk, the little bit of lace around the edge. Even if she never saw it again, she would never forget what it looked like.

They talked for an hour or so more before finally drifting off the sleep, their hands still intertwined.

* * *

The next morning, Gabrielle woke up to find Enjolras already gone. She blinked in the cracks of sunlight drifting in through the shutters and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Had last night really happened? Had they actually _touched_, held each other, for several minutes? She didn't think it was dream, but if it was, it had been a rather good one.

Gabrielle rose and dressed. She ate breakfast, straightened the apartment, including all of the books that had found their way to the floor, and then looked around for something else to do. While she was immensely grateful that she didn't have to go back to the factory, she _did _have to admit that she was getting a little bored.

She was saved from her contemplation by a knock on the door. When she opened it, a young _gamin_ stood on the other side.

"Are you Madame Enjolras?" he asked.

"Yes, I am. What brings you here?" she asked curiously.

"I have a letter for you." He held it out and then stood waiting for his payment.

Gabrielle eyed his ragged appearance. "Have you eaten today?"

He shook his head. "No. But if you give me a few sous, I'll be able to."

"Will you come in and eat breakfast with me?"

He looked wary. "But you'll still pay me, too, right?"

Gabrielle laughed and nodded. "Yes, of course I will."

"Well, alright then." The little boy stepped into the apartment and looked around.

Gabrielle watched him for a minute, then began gathering a few things for breakfast. They had almost a whole loaf of bread and some pastries left over from the day before. Gabrielle laid them on the table and the boy set to devouring them.

As he ate, Gabrielle unfolded the letter, taking in the signature at the bottom. It was signed "Genevieve Durand," and Gabrielle's eyes widened. What in the world could she want?

Gabrielle read, surprised to see Madame Durand requesting her presence for lunch at the Café de Flor. She knew where it was, though she had never been there.

"Bad news?" the little _gamin _asked, eyeing Gabrielle's letter.

"Oh, no. Not really. Just a bit unexpected." Gabrielle folded the letter back up and sat down across from the boy. "What is your name?"

"Henri," he said around a massive bite of bread.

Gabrielle resisted telling him to mind his manners, as she would have with Armand. "And how old are you, Henri?" He looked to be no more than ten.

He shrugged. "Dunno."

"Oh. Where do you stay?"

He raised his eyebrows, looking like that was a rather stupid question. "Wherever I feel like it when I want to go to sleep."

"That sounds reasonable," Gabrielle muttered. She rose and went into the bedroom to get some money for him.

He was finished with his breakfast and standing by the table when she came back out. She handed him what he was due and he flashed her a grin.

"Thank you for keeping me company, Henri," Gabrielle said gently.

He looked a bit uncomfortable, but replied, "Sure. Thanks...for the food. And the money. If you ever need any messages delivered, I'm usually around somewhere out there." He gestured to the window and then walked to the door, waving at her over his shoulder.

She watched him go, feeling pity, and thinking of Gavroche, the young _gamin _that used to follow the _Les Amis_ everywhere they went. Even he had died on the barricade. It was horrible, Gabrielle thought, all of the children starving on the streets of Paris, with no parents to love them, no education available, and no jobs once they grew up. They were born just to suffer and die. She shuddered, then remembered the letter from Genevieve Durand.

She had nothing better to do than meet her for lunch, she supposed, so she began getting ready.

* * *

When Gabrielle arrived at the Café de Flor, she found Madame Durand already waiting for her. Gabrielle greeted her cordially and they sat at a little table by a window, looking out at the crowded street.

"I am glad you are able to join me, Gabrielle. I know my invitation was rather abrupt."

"I was surprised," Gabrielle admitted. "But I seem to have a lot of time on my hands lately, so it wasn't unwelcome." She smiled, feeling somewhat intimidated by the older woman.

"I apologize if I startled you at the dinner party several weeks ago," Madame Durand began softly. "It is not that I don't trust my husband's judgment when it comes to who he hires, but I do like to make sure he hasn't made any mistakes. He hasn't, has he?"

Gabrielle raised her eyebrows at Madame Durand's bluntness, bristling a little bit at what she perceived to be somewhat of an insult towards Enjolras. "Absolutely not. My husband is a wonderful man."

"And also quite an inspiring leader, from what we have heard." Madame Durand smiled and then said sympathetically, "What happened in June was horrible. Absolutely horrible, and I'm very sorry for the loss your husband endured. I am sure he still keenly feels the defeat."

"Yes. He lost his best friends, as well as his dream. He carries immense guilt. My brother was killed there, as well."

Madame Durand's eyes softened. "I'm so sorry to hear that, Gabrielle, I had no idea. And please, call me Genevieve."

Gabrielle nodded, looking at her curiously. She was a very hard woman to read, and held herself with a sort of regal grace. She couldn't have been more than forty, Gabrielle guessed, but she seemed even older in a way, due to her confidence and straight-forward bearing.

"Now," Genevieve continued. "You may be wondering why I asked you to lunch today?"

"Very much so."

"Well. I must admit I am curious about your husband's future plans. Does he intend to lead any more rather conspicuous revolutions?"

Gabrielle narrowed her eyes, feeling insulted again at the touch of disdain she heard in Genevieve's voice. "Not that I am aware of, no."

"Good. That really won't do. He is young and full of fire, and it admittedly _does _take men like him in power in order for change to take effect, but..." Genevieve shrugged. "Our last revolution didn't go so well, did it? I don't think anyone wants to see the guillotine back in fashion. And I do not believe this country is ready for such an event to take place, unfortunately."

"Forgive me, Genevieve," Gabrielle began uncertainly, resisting the urge to argue with the woman, "but...what is your point? What do you want from me?"

"Your help, of course. You mentioned you may be interested in charity work?"

Gabrielle rose her eyebrows. From insulting her husband to asking for help in the same conversation. "Perhaps...what do you have in mind?"

"Well, first let me say that your husband's uprising halted our plans for a quite a while. With all of that unrest, our...let me say, _softer_ approach to the problem was a bit interrupted. Many people didn't want to be implicated if things got bad, you see, so they refused to help us. Now that a few months have gone by, we think it may be time to try again."

Gabrielle was intrigued despite herself. "What kinds of things are you planning to do?"

"Provide meals, for one. Provide clothing. Provide shelter. All of that is a rather tall order, considering how many are in need in this city, but I believe until those basic essentials are met, nothing else can be done."

"How exactly do you plan to do all of this?"

Gabrielle was skeptical, but thought of Henri, the little boy who had delivered the letter that morning, and wondered how much it would change his life if he had a clean, safe place to sleep every night and a guaranteed meal every day.

"Before I go into too many details, does this sound like something you would like to be a part of? That your husband would want to contribute to?"

Gabrielle was silent for a moment, and knew she couldn't speak for Enjolras. "I would like to, yes. That is, if I can learn more about how it can be done. My brother was passionate about helping the less fortunate and I would like to continue his work. But I cannot speak for my husband, as I know he would never speak for me."

Genevieve smiled. "That makes you a fortunate woman then, Gabrielle. And I am glad you are interested in joining us. Now, please, tell me a bit about yourself. Are you from Paris?"

Gabrielle and Genevieve talked as they ate, and Gabrielle soon relaxed a little bit. She didn't necessarily open up, but she answered questions patiently and revealed as much information about herself as she dared. If they did begin working together, Genevieve would certainly learn more in time, anyway.

* * *

That night, Gabrielle lay awake in bed, debating on whether or not to tell Enjolras about her lunch with Genevieve. Being married didn't mean he had to know every little thing she did all day, he had said so himself. Still, Genevieve was the wife of his future employer and current professor, and they had talked about things that would probably interest Enjolras.

Or bring up less than pleasant feelings and make him retreat into himself and further away from her.

Still...

"Antoine? Are you awake?"

"Hmm?" He lay on his stomach, his head turned away from her, in a pose that had become rather familiar. He reminded her of a child, sleeping like that, and she found it endearing.

"I had lunch with Genevieve Durand today," she said quietly.

He turned his head toward her, curiosity in his eyes. "How did that come about?"

"Well, she sent a note with a boy...first, I gave him breakfast, but in the note, she asked me to go to lunch," Gabrielle rambled in her usual way.

Enjolras patiently interrupted her. "Wait, what? You gave breakfast to a boy?"

Was that amusement on his face?

"Well yes," she said defensively. "He was young, couldn't have been more than ten years old. And he reminded me of Gavroche."

Enjolras' lip curled up in a smile and he turned on his side, propping himself on his elbow to see her better. "Right. Go on."

"So, anyway, she asked to meet for lunch, and I went. We had a rather interesting conversation. She's a very hard woman to read, isn't she?"

Enjolras nodded. "Yes, I thought so. What did you speak about?"

"Well...that's the part you may not be happy about. Not that I'm concerned whether or not you agree with me participating, because I will do what I want, and I certainly don't need your approval..."

Enjolras interrupted her again, this time by reaching out and putting his hand over her mouth. But he was grinning, and Gabrielle found it made her heart flutter in her chest. "You're good at avoiding the point, Gabrielle," he said.

She glared at him, playfully swiping his hand away. "Really, Antoine, it _is _rather serious."

"Then say it."

"She told me your revolution interrupted some of the work they had begun, but that they wanted to start up again. She asked me to join."

Enjolras didn't say anything, and Gabrielle couldn't really read his expression in the dark.

"What sort of work?" he finally asked. "Is it dangerous?"

"No. They want to provide food and shelter."

"For all of the homeless in Paris? I wish them luck," Enjolras muttered.

"Don't be so negative, Antoine. Even helping just a few is better than doing nothing at all."

"Do you intend to join them?"

"Yes, I think so," Gabrielle admitted. "I need something to occupy my time, and my brother so wanted things to change. I know it won't happen overnight, and there will always be those that need help...but that just means there must also be those willing to help them. Don't you think so?" Gabrielle pressed gently.

"I don't know anymore, Gabrielle. And please don't press the issue. Of course, you may do as you please, though."

Gabrielle could detect a tone of finality in his voice, and she knew that he would not budge on the issue any more, at least not tonight. Maybe eventually he would come around, especially if he saw what she was doing making a difference.

"I won't bother you about it, Antoine. But I wanted you to know. You may feel differently one day."

They looked at each other intently for several moments, and Gabrielle could feel the intensity of his gaze even in the dark. He finally closed his eyes, and after a minute, Gabrielle did the same. She soon felt his fingers intertwine with hers, however, and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

* * *

**THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS! Wow, seriously. I can't even...you guys are incredible.**

**I must admit, though...this is the last chapter I have written before a big gap, and then the end of the story is done. haha So it might be a few more days between chapters than it has been. I'm going to try to write a lot this weekend, but there is a massive, all day search happening for my friend tomorrow, combing through one of the parks in the city. It has been a week tonight since she went missing. I don't know how to to gently say that at this point, we are not expecting to find her alive. It has been a massively difficult week and this story is becoming an amazing way for me to escape for a little while. Thank you for reading it. :)**

**Also, thank you to those that have gone to my YouTube channel and given me compliments on my voice! I appreciate it!**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter.**

**~Aimee**


	12. Chapter XII

Chapter XII

Over the next few weeks, Gabrielle found her days gradually becoming busier and busier. She began spending hours with Genevieve Durand and her friends, many of whom were the wives of other lawyers. Some, however, Genevieve had recruited on her own. When they met during the evening at the Durand's house, even some men, including Monsieur Durand, came to the meetings. In many ways, it made Gabrielle nostalgic, and she often found herself gazing at the door, wondering when her brother and the rest of the _Les Amis_ would walk in. Of course, they never did, not even Enjolras.

Gabrielle was disappointed that so far, he showed no interest in returning to his old work, though Gabrielle had to admit that what they were currently doing was vastly different from the mission of the _Les Amis._ Enjolras had been very good at words, and rallies, and getting a crowed momentarily fired up...but change? Everything had rested on the one idea of a revolution. Other than that, Gabrielle mused, they hadn't really done much of anything. And in their split-second failure, they had lost everything they'd worked for.

Gabrielle and Genevieve began their mission by appealing to churches in the city, asking if they were willing to house the less fortunate in the evenings. Some turned them away with disdain and excuses, but some were open to the idea. They had no blankets, bedding, or cots for people to sleep on, but a roof and a warm space was better than sleeping under a bridge or on the street. Once word got out, the churches filled up quickly each evening, with the _abaiss__é_ lining up hours in advance, as there was only so much space available. Most of those that came were children, Gabrielle noticed with sadness.

The next obstacle they faced was food. Food required money, and though the Durand's and their friends were wealthy, if they spent all of their own money on their cause, they would soon run out. There wasn't enough money in France to feed the unfortunate of Paris every day.

And that was how Gabrielle found herself begging Enjolras to attend an upcoming ball with her, hosted by the Durand's. They intended to use the occasion to raise funds, and many important members of society were invited.

When Gabrielle brought it up, Enjolras gaped at her. "A ball? _You _actually want to attend a ball?"

"Well, yes..." She hadn't yet told him why.

"What has changed? You were terrified of that first dinner party, and this will be much bigger."

She shrugged. "We are hoping to raise money, to begin providing food for the people who have been sleeping in the churches each evening. Genevieve thinks I should be there. She said..." Gabrielle stopped and blushed, not wanting to sound vain.

"What did she say?"

"Well, she said all of those stuffy aristocrats will fall over themselves to give money if I bat my eyes and dance with them..."

Enjolras raised his eyebrows. "Because you're young and attractive? So she intends to use you."

"I don't really think of it that way, Antoine. And she was joking, or exaggerating, anyway."

"So you intend to use your femininity and looks to get what you want?" Was that disapproval she heard?

"If it gets us what we _need_, in order to help others, is there anything wrong with that? It's just a dance or two," Gabrielle pressed gently.

Enjolras went back to his work without another word, his face unreadable. The way he so abruptly shut her down and brushed her off grated on her nerves and Gabrielle felt her temper rising as the minutes ticked by. He still ignored her.

Finally she burst out, "Are you judging me? For saying I am going to dance with another man or two at a _ball? _ Where you're _supposed _to dance?"

"Yes."

She hadn't expected such a blunt response. "Pardon me?"

"Yes, I am judging you. You asked. I answered." His voice was cold.

Gabrielle narrowed her eyes and rose. "You have some nerve, Antoine. Like you have never used your handsome face to get what you want."

"I have not," he insisted calmly. "I believe using your looks devalues your humanity, Gabrielle, and makes others see you simply as an object and not a person. The fact that you don't have a problem with doing that to yourself makes me question your judgment."

Gabrielle had never felt so insulted, and somehow coming from Enjolras made it worse. "You've used your looks, and you don't even know it! You're too wrapped up in your own little world to understand how others see you!" She knew she was near shouting, which was even more embarrassing considering his calm demeanor.

He shrugged. "Perhaps you're right, I don't know. I don't wish to argue. If you want to go to the ball, I will go with you. You may do as you wish there. I would never try to stop you, of course."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes, her blood boiling. It seemed the more icy and cool he was, the more annoyed she was. How in the world did he manage to get under her skin so easily? Why did she care so much about what he thought, and why did his disapproval sting so badly? And even worse, his indifference to what she did? Gabrielle was as annoyed at herself for caring as she was at him.

"Fine then. Thank you _so much_," she said sarcastically, and stomped into the bedroom to get ready for bed. He didn't reach for her hand that night.

* * *

The day of the ball soon arrived, and Gabrielle prepared at Marius and Cosette's home. She had invited them a week ago, when Cosette curiously asked how Gabrielle was going to possibly get herself ready with no help. Gabrielle had realized with horror she was right. She had no one to do her hair or tightly lace her corset, and not even any jewelry to wear. Thankfully, though, she did have Cosette and the use of her maid, Marie.

Gabrielle wore the blue gown she had been married in, although with Cosette's help, it was even more impressive than it had been that day. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but stare for a minute. Her waist was tiny and her breasts full, due to Marie tugging and pulling on her corset so tightly that Gabrielle could barely breathe. Her hair was elegantly swept onto her head, a sapphire comb of Cosette's daintily holding up the curls. There was no longer a girl staring back at her, but a woman, and Gabrielle was a bit startled by the realization.

She descended the stairs with Cosette to find Enjolras and Marius waiting for them in the hall, and noticed with a bit of pride how Enjolras' eyes lingered on her body just a touch longer than usual. Marius fawned over Cosette, kissing her hand and telling her how beautiful she looked, but Enjolras only nodded cordially to Gabrielle. She gave him a chilly smile in response. They sat next to each other in the _fiacre_, but pressed into separate corners, unlike Marius and Cosette, whose hands were intertwined. There wasn't an inch of space between them.

Enjolras was quiet, and Gabrielle knew he probably wasn't going to have a good time. She told herself she didn't care a bit, though she knew it was a lie, and found herself smiling and talking a bit uncharacteristically when they arrived to make up for it. She felt like a different person in her fancy clothes and hair, anyway, and decided that the better she could play the part, the happier she would be. It would bring more money in, and there was certainly nothing wrong with that.

Gabrielle circled the room, letting Genevieve introduce her to everyone. Gabrielle didn't find it as difficult to talk or keep up a conversation as anticipated, especially if she was speaking about the work they had been doing.

She sat next to Enjolras during dinner, and he leaned over and said quietly, "You look quite at ease tonight."

"Do I? Am I flirting too outrageously for you?" She smirked and cocked her head.

Enjolras sighed and said placatingly, "You're being perfectly charming. I may have...well, I may have jumped to conclusions a little bit when we talked."

"Oh, you mean when you accused me of being practically not fit for polite society?"

Enjolras rolled his eyes. "I never said, or implied, any such thing. I'm trying to apologize, Gabrielle."

She bit her lip to avoid biting back, but was distracted by the gentleman on her left speaking to her. She turned away from Enjolras and answered politely, and was soon caught up in a different conversation, leaving things with her husband unfinished.

As they rose to go into the ballroom and begin the dancing, Gabrielle felt his hand on her back, leading her with him. She rose her eyebrows and gazed at him evenly. "Do you need something, Antoine?"

He sighed and leaned closer so they wouldn't be overheard. "Are you really still so mad at me?"

"I'm not mad, no. Annoyed is a better word."

"Well, will you set your _annoyance_ aside and dance the first dance with me? People will talk if you ignore your husband all night."

"Fine. I will dance with you." She did her best to sound unhappy about it. She berated herself for being so cold to him, and didn't really even understand why she hadn't yet let the matter drop. He had apologized, or tried to.

Enjolras took her hand and led her to the dance floor, one hand resting rather firmly on her waist as they got into position. He pulled her just a little closer than necessary.

She glared up at him and he smiled wryly. The first dance was a slow waltz, and Gabrielle was surprised at how gracefully Enjolras moved across the floor. He was clearly the leader, and made dancing easy.

His eyes never left her face, and Gabrielle soon felt her cheeks flushing under his intense gaze. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, and she hated herself for loving the feel of his arms around her.

"You dance well," she finally said, as they turned effortlessly.

"Thank you." He was silent for a moment, and she noticed a flicker of _something _flash across his face. "I'm sorry I haven't told you how beautiful you look tonight, Gabrielle."

She blushed and managed a small smile. "Thank you. And it's alright. We haven't been very happy with each other lately."

"You didn't seem very interested in my apology earlier."

"Yes, I'm...I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to be unkind to you."

"And I didn't mean to judge you so harshly last week. There's a lot about women, in general, that I don't know," he admitted.

Gabrielle snorted in laughter and raised her eyebrows. "Really? I had no idea."

Gabrielle was disappointed when the dance ended and he took a step back. The place where his hand had rested on her waist burned.

Before he turned away and left the dance floor, Enjolras unexpectedly leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Do what you need to do. Dance with whomever you want. I think you're handling yourself admirably tonight. But save the last dance for me."

The room began to spin as his breath tickled her neck, and Gabrielle's heart leaped into her throat as she felt his lips ever so lightly trail along the curve of her jaw. As fast as it had happened, it was over, however, and Enjolras walked away, leaving her feeling strangely bereft and confused in the middle of the dance floor. She wondered if she had imagined the whole thing.

Gabrielle soon found herself in the arms of another partner, however, and forced a bright smile onto her face, though she still found it difficult to catch her breath. Gabrielle liked to dance, but after _that, _with _him, _nothing could possibly compare. She did her best to talk pleasantly and offer all of the reasons why her partner should contribute his money to the cause, but her mind wasn't really on her task. Every once in a while, Gabrielle would feel her skin tingle, almost through a sixth sense, and when she looked around, sure enough, Enjolras would be gazing at her. Halfway through the dances, Gabrielle's feet were protesting for a rest, so when she spotted Cosette doing the same on a sofa in the corner, Gabrielle wandered over to join her.

Cosette smiled as Gabrielle sat. "Hello, Gabrielle - you look like you're having a nice evening, especially that _first _waltz. I didn't know Enjolras could dance so well."

Gabrielle bit her lip and looked around, making sure no one else was paying attention to their conversation.

"Enjolras and I haven't been getting along lately," Gabrielle admitted quietly. "But I think maybe we're past it. He seemed..." What had he seemed? Not his usual self, that was certain. But not angry or disapproving of her, either. He was as ever changing as the weather, so stoic and hard to read, and yet so full of heat and fire at the same time.

Cosette smiled wickedly and whispered in Gabrielle's ear, "Well, honestly, the best part of having a fight with your husband is what comes after when he apologizes!"

Gabrielle laughed loudly at Cosette's admission, and gently reached out for the glass of wine in her hand. "If you are speaking of things you and Marius do in the bedroom, Cosette, I think it is time for you to _stop _drinking."

Cosette giggled again and patted Gabrielle's hand. "You are probably right. I suppose I shall be mortified by that comment tomorrow. Right now I can't seem to care. And I think you should go dance with Enjolras again, as he keeps staring at you."

Gabrielle looked up to see Enjolras looking at her from across the room. She glanced down at the rest of Cosette's wine and took a healthy drink before bidding Cosette goodbye. Gabrielle stood and crossed the room to Enjolras, telling herself to be brave.

"Are you having a nice time?" she asked.

"It could be worse." Enjolras' lips curved upward in the semblance of a smile. "You seem to be enjoying yourself. _But_," he stressed, "there are still several gentleman you haven't danced with."

Gabrielle took a deep breath and shrugged. She looked him straight on and said confidently, "Honestly, Antoine, I don't think I want to dance again at all...unless I am dancing with you."

Enjolras looked startled at her admission, and Gabrielle felt a little triumphant that she had rattled him. He shifted from foot to foot for a moment, and then said quietly, "Well then...will you dance with me, Gabrielle?"

Gabrielle giggled and dipped into a graceful curtsey. "I will, Monsieur."

He offered her his hand and led her onto the dance floor. They danced only with each other the rest of the night, and Gabrielle was barely aware of anyone else in the room. They talked some, but mostly just looked into each other's eyes, and though it should have felt awkward, it didn't. Gabrielle felt light-headed and strange, almost giddy, just from his presence. By the end of the night, they were pressed so closely together it almost wasn't decent, but neither seemed to notice or care.

After the last dance, Gabrielle reluctantly stepped away, though Enjolras kept her hand in his. She realized he was as flushed as she was, from the dancing, and hopefully, from being so near to her. "That was...nice," she managed, and swallowed. "It's rather hot in here, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Yes, I'd like some air. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes, let me just say goodbye to Genevieve." She smiled and squeezed his hand before letting go, feeling his eyes follow her across the floor as she walked away.

When Genevieve saw her coming, she grinned. "Gabrielle, my dear," the older woman said conspiratorially. "Did you have a good time this evening?"

Gabrielle's turned even more red and she grinned. "A very nice time, thank you, Genevieve. I danced with and talked to as many people as I could..."

"Before you simply couldn't stay away from your own husband any more, I know," Genevieve teased. "You did well, Gabrielle, thank you. And I must admit, it is rather refreshing to see two young people so deeply in love. It does an old romantic heart good to see it still exists."

Gabrielle blinked in surprise at Genevieve's words. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, not sure how to respond. Is that really how they looked, how everyone there had viewed them?

God, _was _she in love with him? The thought was staggering.

She felt a bit dizzy, and mumbled goodbye to Genevieve. She was still dazed as she wandered back over to Enjolras, who immediately took her hand again. His gaze turned concerned as he looked at her.

"Gabrielle? Are you alright? You look a bit flushed."

"What? Oh, I'm...I'm just hot. From the dancing," she muttered. He fetched her a glass of water and she sipped it for a few minutes before they left. They climbed into a _fiacre_ and Enjolras never let go of her hand, not even once they were inside and alone.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked with concern.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm feeling better already, Antoine," she smiled unsteadily. "Just tired now. I've barely sat down all evening. I've never danced so much in my life!"

Enjolras hesitated a moment, but then tentatively wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her firmly against his side. She closed her eyes, feeling even more confused at what his touch did to her, and the reactions it instinctively caused in her body, but also secretly thrilled. She let her head rest against his shoulder and sighed.

It was a long ride home, and eventually, she began to calm down. The rocking motion of the carriage and her own confusion coupled to make her feel exhausted.

It wasn't such a bad thing to have feelings for your own husband, she supposed. And clearly, he felt _something _for her.

"Thank you for dancing with me tonight," she finally said.

"You're welcome. It was actually a rather nice evening," he said tentatively. "I've never enjoyed these things before, all the extravagance and phony conversations, but...tonight wasn't bad."

Gabrielle grinned a little, feeling the _fiacre_ finally come to a halt as it stopped in front of their apartment. "Well, I'm glad spending time with me isn't too torturous," she teased.

He helped her down and Gabrielle winced as her feet hit the ground. She had a feeling her whole body would be sore tomorrow.

They walked upstairs slowly, and Enjolras let Gabrielle undress and climb into bed before he entered the room. She wanted to talk, maybe even tell him how happy she felt, but her exhaustion won out and she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. For the first time in a long while, her dreams were pleasant.

* * *

Two days later, Gabrielle found herself helping make massive amounts of soup for the hungry people sleeping in the church. She worked alongside other volunteers and even the old priest in charge of the church. They hadn't yet opened the doors, but many were already lined up outside. Gabrielle eyed the tin plates and spoons Genevieve had scrounged up through donations, hoping they had enough for everyone to use.

When the soup was finished, Gabrielle organized two lines to serve the food and made sure everyone knew what to do. She found it easy to be in charge, and instinctively knew how to direct the others.

"Madame," one of Genevieve's friends, named Adele, suddenly appeared at her elbow. "Your husband is here to see you."

"My husband?" Gabrielle looked up to see Enjolras, Marius, Cosette, and Joly standing just inside the doors. Cosette looked a little nervous, but Marius and Joly were grinning. Enjolras was somberly surveying the soup lines, and nodded when his eyes met hers.

Gabrielle walked over to the group, wiping her hands on the long white apron she wore to cover her dress, and attempting to smooth the curls that had come loose from her hair.

"_Bonjour_. What are you all doing here? Not that I'm not thrilled to see you!" Gabrielle squeezed Cosette's hand in greeting.

"We've finally convinced Enjolras to come be a part of this," Joly said happily. "He's been telling us what you've been up to, Gabrielle. Put us to work, we're help to help!"

"Oh!" Gabrielle smiled slowly, trying not to let it show how happy she was that Enjolras had finally given in and was regaining interest in helping those who couldn't help themselves. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Just tell us what to do," Marius answered.

Gabrielle looked at Enjolras and he nodded. "Me, too."

"Well...thank you, all of you. I'm so happy you're here," she said sincerely. Gabrielle led the group over to the second soup line, where they still needed more people, and told everyone what to do. After she had spoken, she laid her hand on Enjolras' arm and said quietly, "Can I speak to you?"

"Of course." He followed her over to a corner of the large hall, his expression unreadable; however, Gabrielle was beginning to understand that the careful mask of calm he was now wearing was actually the signal for some sort of inner turmoil.

"Are you sure you want to be here?" she pressed quietly.

He sighed. "I don't know, truthfully. But I'm curious. I want to see what you're doing, and the others have been bothering me incessantly. They were going to come without me."

"And you didn't want to be left behind." Gabrielle smiled. "Antoine, I'm glad you're here. So glad, really. I don't think you'll regret it."

He didn't answer, but his eyes were conflicted. Gabrielle reached up and cupped his cheek for a moment, running her thumb along his jaw. Her hand moved to his neck, and before she lost her nerve, Gabrielle stood on tiptoe to gently kiss his cheek. He looked surprised, but let her take his hand and lead him back over to the others. Gabrielle noticed Marius elbow him playfully, a knowing look on his face, and Enjolras glared back.

Gabrielle turned away to hide her grin, and walked to the front doors. She opened them and directed the people waiting outside where to go. Some of the children had become familiar and greeted her by name. Luckily, that night, they had enough food for everyone. Word must not have spread yet about what they were doing, she thought. She watched those inside eat hungrily, and talked to anyone who expressed interest in conversation. The adults who had come were wary and distrustful, but Gabrielle couldn't really blame them.

Enjolras mostly stayed back and watched, but Gabrielle noticed Cosette seemed to be in her element, too, especially when talking to the children. Marius and Joly had even begun washing the dishes, and looked happy to be doing something productive again.

Once the food was gone, Gabrielle and the others helped get everything cleaned up and re-organized, ready to do it all again the next day. She was tired, but happy. Everything had gone even better than anticipated, and she hoped that Genevieve, across the city at another church, had had luck just as good. Everyone was settling in for the night, so Gabrielle removed her apron and donned her wrap instead, prepared to walk home with the others in the chilly October weather. Autumn had settled over the city, and the days of summer seemed far away and almost from a different lifetime. She had been married to Enjolras nearly three months, and he was nearly done with school.

"Gabrielle, what you all have accomplished in such a short time is remarkable," Marius said. "I'm very impressed."

Gabrielle smiled. "Thank you, Marius. It has mostly been Genevieve Durand, truthfully, but I do like feeling like I'm doing something worthwhile."

Gabrielle was surprised when she felt Enjolras take her hand. He was usually more reserved around his friends. She intertwined her fingers with his and squeezed.

"I would love to come back and help again. Or, I noticed that there are no blankets? What else are you all still in need of?" Cosette asked.

Gabrielle ran through the list of things they needed and what they wanted to try and do next. "Everything costs so much money, of course," she sighed. "But people have been much more generous than we first anticipated."

They came to Marius and Cosette's home first and bid them goodbye. Enjolras, Gabrielle, and Joly continued until they came to their own building.

Joly stopped outside of Musichetta's door. "Gabrielle?" Joly asked curiously. "Do you think Madame Durand would be interested in me volunteering my services as a doctor? And trying to get others to do the same? Especially through the winter months, when everyone will probably be sick and in need of care..."

Gabrielle was touched at Joly's offer. "Joly, I think that would be wonderful! I'm sure Madame Durand would love the idea. I'll talk to her about it tomorrow. Thank you."

Joly grinned and opened Musichetta's door, giving the couple a wink over his shoulder. "You two have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Gabrielle laughed and even Enjolras cracked a smile, rolling his eyes and heading back up the stairs. "Which means _nothing _is off limits," he said good naturedly.

Gabrielle followed him into the apartment and stretched, raising her arms over her head. "What an exhausting day. I can't imagine doing it all again tomorrow...but I suppose I will." She yawned and laid her wrap on the back of the sofa.

Enjolras turned to look at her, his eyes still amused. "I realized tonight I married quite a force of nature."

Gabrielle's cheeks colored. "What do you mean? And is that a good or bad thing?"

"Good," he said simply. "And I just mean that you were a natural there. You were in charge and comfortable with your own authority. The people there respect you. Your brother would be astonished and proud of you."

Gabrielle smiled slowly, touched by his words. "I...thank you, Antoine. That's remarkably nice of you to say."

Enjolras untied his cravat and slipped it off, unbuttoning the top of his shirt. Gabrielle found her eyes drifting to the little triangle of exposed chest he had revealed, and she quickly lowered her eyes, suddenly imagining her lips trailing over that bit of his skin. How she wanted him, she mused, and how utterly horrifying it would be if he rejected her advances. It was that fear of rejection that kept her from acting on her true impulses and desires.

Enjolras sat on the sofa and pulled his boots off. "I will go back again," he finally said. "I enjoyed being there. Feeling useful."

She snapped herself out of her thoughts. "Did you? Good. I was hoping you would feel that way, and that it wouldn't make you...well, think of other things. Or get _lost_ in them, rather. You'll always think of them, I'm afraid..."

He rose and stood in front of her, his curls falling in his eyes. "I don't think it's a bad thing that I think of them, Gabrielle. I must learn from my mistakes."

"What were your mistakes?" She stepped closer, reaching out to run her fingers along the ornate threads running through his vest.

"Moving too quickly, getting too caught up, thinking we were above it all. Not appealing to the people. Wanting too much to happen too fast. I could go on for hours." His eyes darkened as he listed his shortcomings and Gabrielle's hand tightened on his vest.

"You're still going to change the world, Antoine. I have no doubt of that," she said fiercely.

He gazed at her for a moment, and suddenly, before she even knew what was happening, his lips were pressed against hers. She froze, her grip on his vest loosening, and her arms slowly snaking up and around his neck. His lips gently roved over her own, and she soon found herself kissing him back, gently pulling and sucking on his bottom lip. Her knees felt weak, and she was grateful to feel his arms wrap securely around her waist, holding her up.

She didn't know how long they kissed, but by the time they both reluctantly pulled away, Gabrielle's lips felt bruised and swollen. They were both breathing heavily, she noticed, and neither knew what to say. She didn't remove her arms from his neck, but he reached up and pushed her hair back, and she realized it had come loose and tumbled down her back during their kiss. His eyes searched her face, looking for approval, she realized, and she smiled.

He smiled back and leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead. She closed her eyes, feeling her heart pound in her chest.

After a minute, he finally spoke. "I hate to say it, but...I have work to do. There's a paper due in a few days..."

Gabrielle looked up at him and nodded. "Of course. It's alright." She reluctantly stepped back, immediately missing the feel of his body pressed against hers. "It's late, anyway."

Enjolras nodded and watched her walk to the bedroom door. "_Bonne nuit_, Gabrielle."

She gave him an unsteady smile before closing the bedroom door behind her. How would she ever get to sleep now?

* * *

**Whoa, action! I hope you guys enjoyed.**

**Reviews really fell off for the last chapter. Please leave me a review if you enjoyed this one! (And thanks to all that did!)**

**And btw...things are about to get super smutty. Seriously, it's shameless. So...yeah, just a warning. ha Look for the next chapter in a few days. :)**

**~Aimee**


	13. Chapter XIII

Chapter XIII

Gabrielle woke up in the morning to find Enjolras gone. He usually rose before her, so it wasn't unusual. She rubbed her eyes, then crawled over to the window next to the bed, pushing the shutters open. It was a cool day and she pulled the bed covers around her shoulders as she looked down at the street below. She loved this window. At night, she could open it and look up at the stars through the slim opening between the buildings, and in the morning, she could watch everyone slowly waking up to go about their day.

Gabrielle jumped when Enjolras' voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts. "Good morning, Gabrielle." He stood in the bedroom doorway, his hair still a bit disheveled from sleep.

"Antoine! I thought you had left already." Gabrielle self-consciously pulled the covers tighter around her. "Don't you have class today?" Her eyes flickered to his lips, remembering their searing kiss from the night before. Ever since, she had had a knot of desire coiled in her stomach. She wanted to kiss him again.

He nodded and came further into the bedroom, opening up a drawer to look for a fresh cravat. "It is early still. Very early, actually." He hesitated, then asked tentatively, "Would you like to walk with me this morning?"

"Oh...yes, of course. Thank you for asking. Just let me get dressed." He had never actually been there when she'd woken up, and she wondered if he had actually been waiting for her. Gabrielle waited until Enjolras closed the bedroom door to pull the covers back. She dressed hastily, mumbling curses at her horrible corset, and pinned up her hair. After she slipped on her shoes, Gabrielle went into the front room to meet Enjolras.

He offered her his arm without a word and they left together. The sun shone brightly, and even though they didn't speak, the silence between them was comfortable.

They passed only a few people so early in the morning, and finally Gabrielle asked curiously, "You don't really have class _this_ early, do you?" A horrifying thought suddenly occurred to her and she said quietly, "Oh, Antoine, you don't usually leave so early just to get away from _me_, do you?"

Enjolras looked at her incredulously. "Why would you even think that, Gabrielle? That's absurd. And no, I don't have class this early, but I come to work in the library most days. It has nothing to do with you."

"Oh," Gabrielle said in relief. "I just thought maybe since you are used to being alone..."

"Stop," he said with finality. "You give yourself too much credit for my habits."

She blushed and looked away, then stopped in front of a store window with several hand-painted fans on display. She frowned as she gazed at them.

"These aren't half so nice as my brother's were."

"No, they are not. He was much more detailed in his work."

Gabrielle glanced at Enjolras and noticed the faithful scowl that usually accompanied any talk of his dead friends. It was no good pushing him to talk about them. He would speak in his own time, when he was ready.

She turned away from the window and kept walking. "What is your class today?" she asked curiously.

"Civil Law. We have a guest speaker this morning."

Gabrielle grinned and squeezed his arm. "Do you think I would be found out were I to sneak in? I'd so love to hear the things you get to..." He knew she was joking, but turned to her and said seriously, "I try to remember to tell you everything. I wish you could attend, as well, Gabrielle."

"I know. Someday," she shrugged. "When your republic succeeds, maybe they will let even women like me attend university..."

"God knows you're more intelligent than many of the boys there," Enjolras said sincerely. "Are you writing lately? You've been so busy with everything else, I haven't noticed your book laying around anywhere."

"I've written a little, but mostly nonsense," she answered truthfully. "Why?"

"Well..." Enjolras hesitated and stopped again, leaning closer to her. "Marius, Joly, and I are thinking of starting a newspaper. Just something small. And I thought, perhaps, you might want to contribute your writing? Maybe even talk about the work you're doing? Or things we've talked about before, like women's education and equal rights?"

Gabrielle's eyes widened. "Wait, wait. A newspaper? When in the world did this come about? None of you have mentioned it!"

Enjolras' lip curved. "Well, _they've_ been talking about it for months, but I resisted. But after being at the church last night and seeing the work you're doing...I don't know, maybe it isn't such a bad idea."

Gabrielle felt like shouting. Enjolras had a look in his eyes that hadn't been there in months, one of focus and determination. She didn't want to make too much of it, however, and make him feel self conscious. "I think that's an amazing idea. _Really _wonderful. Have you spoken to Monsieur Durand about it? He would want to help!"

Enjolras shook his head. "No, no...we haven't really done anything besides talk amongst ourselves, but I thought maybe we could even begin getting things together today. We must start somewhere."

"Absolutely." She smiled widely and tried very hard to keep from throwing her arms around him.

"You didn't answer my question. Would you want to write?"

"Of course. If you think my writing is good enough, I would be honored. Thank you for asking."

"It's good enough." Enjolras gave her a rare smile and demurely kissed her forehead. "Like I said, Gabrielle, you are more intelligent than half the men in my classes."

There it was again – a kiss. A chaste one, and not on the lips like last night, but still. He was actually showing her affection. She didn't know what to make of it. First, they had begun strolling arm in arm, then holding hands, and now he was kissing her. Her heart beat a little faster, but she forced herself to calm down. She would not act like a silly girl, in love with a man who was certainly only with her out of his own twisted sense of obligation and duty to a friend. But the way he had kissed her, the way he had held her at the ball, the way he looked at her sometimes...it was all so confusing. No wonder Enjolras had scorned love and romance for so long. It could make you crazy.

They again began walking silently, hand in hand, and Gabrielle noticed that the nearer they got to the university, the more tight Enjolras' jaw became. "Do you not want to be here today?" she asked quietly at the doors to the library.

Enjolras sighed and let go of her hand, turning to face her. "Not particularly, no. Most days anymore it all seems a bit tedious. It isn't what it used to be."

"No, I would imagine not. But you're almost through, with exams in only a few weeks. And, Antoine," she said passionately, "You will still make a difference in this country. You're already plotting with Marius and Joly again, and once you're around Monsieur Durand every day, you will find even more to do. It is not over. And now, I'm here to help you." She smiled as his gaze softened.

He was about to say something when they heard Marius' voice shout his name. "Enjolras! Gabrielle!" Marius jogged toward them, and clapped Enjolras on the shoulder as he came to a stop. "You are out and about early today, Madame."

"Good morning, Marius. Antoine invited me to walk him to school. Who am I to refuse on such a beautiful day?"

"Indeed, though I know you have a long day of work ahead of you. Perhaps on your way home you could stop and see Cosette? She has some things she would like to contribute to the church," Marius said.

"Tomorrow," Gabrielle promised. "Antoine has given me some inspiration this morning. I think I am going to go home and write." Her fingers were already itching for a pen.

Marius leaned closer and said softly. "Ah, has told you about our idea? Did you actually manage to get him to agree?"

"I had nothing to do with it," Gabrielle said truthfully. "He decided all on his own. And I think it's a wonderful idea."

"It's not truly much different than what we used to do, printing pamphlets and distributing them at rallies...only now all of it will be in one place."

"It's brilliant, really. I can't wait to see how it all comes together. And we all have to start to rebuild somewhere." She smiled at them both, then reached out and touched Enjolras' arm. "I'm going to be off now. Thank you for inviting me this morning, Antoine."

Before she lost her nerve, Gabrielle quickly stood on her toes and kissed his cheek, surprised when he turned his head to catch her lips with his. It was a quick kiss, but enough to make Gabrielle's head spin again. She was too dazed as she walked away to notice Marius grinning like a fool at his friend.

* * *

A few hours later, Gabrielle finally put down her pen and stretched. She had run out of ink and wasn't quite finished, but it was a good start. She hoped Enjolras would be pleased with her work on the plight of working women in Paris. True, she hadn't been one for long, but the social isolation that had come with her role as a governess had surprised her – it was lonely work. The conditions of the factory had been worse, of course, with long hours, little pay, and condescending foremen bossing everyone around; but, because of her meager education and her gender, Gabrielle was condemned to a life of either working as a governess and not fitting in, or marrying.

Marriage had fallen into her lap, and quite a lucky one at that, but Gabrielle knew not everyone was so fortunate.

Gabrielle stood and stretched, then walked to the window. She peered down into the street and saw Musichetta just arriving at the building, a basket of clothes on her arm. "'Chetta!" she called down and waved.

Musichetta looked up and smiled. "_Bonjour,_ Gabrielle! Meet me downstairs?"

Gabrielle nodded and left the flat, meeting Musichetta at her door. She still had a few hours before she needed to go oversee things at the church. "More laundry to do?" she asked.

Musichetta nodded and pushed open the door. "Always."

Gabrielle entered the flat and laughed at the mess. "I can tell Joly lives here." His books were everywhere, as well as his clothes.

Musichetta rolled her eyes. "Don't expect me to clean up after him. This is his doing," she said firmly. "I am not his maid."

Gabrielle smiled at the affection she heard in Musichetta's voice. "Ah, but you love him anyway. Has he told you of the plans for a newspaper?"

Musichetta began sorting the laundry and shook her head. "No, he hasn't. What is this about?"

"Well," Gabrielle said excitedly. "Joly, Marius, and Enjolras have decided to publish a paper. Enjolras told me about it this morning on our walk, and he asked me to contribute my writing. Isn't that wonderful of him? I've spent the whole day writing, but I ran out of ink..." she stopped as she noticed the look Musichetta was giving her.

"He asked you to write?"

Gabrielle nodded and Musichetta laughed. "And then you jumped at his words. My, my, Gabrielle, he beckons and you come. Is there something else going on in the Enjolras household, love?"

Gabrielle blushed and looked at the floor. "'Chetta..." she said uncomfortably. "I really don't want to talk about it."

Musichetta frowned and pressed on anyway. "Have you been with him yet, Gabrielle? You know...made love? Like a husband and wife are _supposed _to?"

Gabrielle shook her head. "No. And I would hardly even know where to begin. The only thing I know about _that _is from a book the girls at school passed around. Until the headmistress confiscated it, that is."

"Well, it comes rather naturally," Musichetta said reassuringly. "And once you get used to it, there is really _nothing _better in the world."

Gabrielle tried not to look too interested. "It doesn't matter, anyway, 'Chetta. I dare say Enjolras isn't really interested in me that way. But," Gabrielle grinned, "he _did _kiss me last night. And this morning."

Musichetta snorted and laughed uproariously. "Oh, Enjolras is famous for ignoring the fairer sex, Gabrielle, but that does not mean he is not _interested _or doesn't _notice _when one is sleeping in the same bed as him! And he kissed you! Believe me, he's interested."

Gabrielle tried not too look too hopeful. "Do you think so?"

Musichetta put down her laundry and came nearer to Gabrielle. "Do you want him to be interested?"

Hesitatingly, Gabrielle nodded. "I think I do...yes. I mean," she added hastily, "we are married. We should..._consumate _the marriage. Right?"

Musichetta raised her eyebrows and took Gabrielle's arm, leading her to the sofa. "It's time you and I had a discussion, love, because as far as I'm concerned, it is _always _a good time to 'consumate.'"

* * *

An hour later, Gabrielle walked back upstairs in a daze. Musichetta's rather shocking descriptions of sex scandalized her on one hand and thrilled her on the other. Gabrielle was surprised to find that thinking of being with Enjolras in that way was so appealing, but equally as terrifying. According to Musichetta, who had of course heard it from Joly and Bossuet, Enjolras had never been with a woman. He was too busy, they said, worrying about other things, and believing in a code of chivalry and respect that meant he would not ever be with a woman he was not married to.

Well, now he _was_ married, but Musichetta figured he didn't really know that he had a willing participant in Gabrielle. Musichetta said it was Gabrielle's job to show him.

Gabrielle walked to the church and did her job mechanically, her mind far away and on other things. They still had enough food that night for everyone that appeared at the church doors, so it was as successful as it could be. The time passed quickly, and Gabrielle hailed a _fiacre_ home since darkness had already fallen.

When she arrived at the apartment, she found Enjolras working at his desk, books scattered around him. Exams were rapidly approaching, and he was getting busier and busier.

"_Bonjour_, Antoine. You must have a lot of work to do tonight?"

"Not as much as it looks. How was today?"

"It went well, the time passed quickly. We had enough food again. And speaking of food, have you eaten? I completely forgot."

"No, as a matter of fact. I forgot, too. Do you want to go out, just for a little while? I still need to study."

"Yes, we might as well."

Enjolras rose and held out his hand. Gabrielle placed her palm in his, loving the way it felt natural and easy now.

"Oh! And..." she pulled away and went into the bedroom, grabbing the pages she had written that morning. She walked back over to Enjolras and tucked the papers securely into his coat pocket with a smile. "I wrote a bit today, too. It isn't finished, but..."

"I look forward to reading it." He smiled and took her hand again, leading her to the door. "Come, lets go find dinner somewhere."

She followed him downstairs and out into the cool evening, and they soon found themselves at a little café down the street. They both ate simply, but the food was good and the wine sweet, and even when they didn't talk so much, Gabrielle enjoyed his company.

After their food was cleared away, Enjolras reached for the paper in his pocket. "Do you mind if I read it now?"

She shook her head, but said nervously, "Please, don't be too harsh with me. I worked hastily and didn't revise at all."

He had never actually read anything she had written, Gabrielle realized, and it was a bit nerve-wracking watching him peruse the paper, especially knowing what a gifted and eloquent writer he was. Gabrielle suddenly felt his hand on her knee under the table, rubbing a small circle in a comforting gesture. She started, and her writing was forgotten. Perhaps Musichetta was right about his desires...

Enjolras read silently, nodding every once in a while. He kept his hand on her knee, though, and Gabrielle was distracted from trying to read his face by the sensation of his hand burning through the fabric of her dress. Finally, he looked up at her and smiled.

"This is quite good, Gabrielle; how do you wish to end it?"

Gabrielle relaxed a bit and leaned forward. Enjolras the Republican was easier to talk to than Enjolras the man, since she was well versed in his political views and ideas. She began talking animatedly, and before they knew it, the café was closing and they had to leave. They had spent much longer together than they'd intended, and Gabrielle liked the way talking about his beloved Patria brought some of the previous fire back to his eyes. She remembered how he used to look as he gave his impassioned speeches. His chiseled features hadn't worn that look since before the barricade. His dream had died that day along with his friends, but Gabrielle was hopeful after the last few days that he hadn't given up completely.

They continued their talk as they walked home, but Enjolras groaned when he looked at his pocket watch outside of their building. "I didn't realize it was so late. I still have a paper to work on."

"I'm sorry – I didn't mean to keep you from your work tonight," Gabrielle apologized, but she didn't really feel sorry since she had enjoyed her time with him so much.

"Don't worry, I've gone without sleep before." Enjolras led the way up the stairs and into the apartment. He eyed the books stacked on the desk and with a sigh, turned to Gabrielle. "I suppose this is where I bid you goodnight."

Gabrielle shifted from one foot to the other, thinking about the things Musichetta had told her earlier that day, and knowing this was exactly where they had kissed the night before.

It was her job to show him she was interested, Musichetta had stressed, so Gabrielle tentatively stepped forward and reached up, untying Enjolras' cravat and unbuttoning the collar of his shirt. She gazed up at his curious blue eyes and then gently tugged on the ends of the cravat, pulling his head down to hers. Their lips met gently at first, but then Gabrielle felt Enjolras' hands on her waist and was encouraged. She rested her hands on his chest, and could feel his heart beating as rapidly as hers. She boldly nipped at his bottom lip and pressed her body against his, deepening the kiss.

His hand slipped behind her neck, tilting her head up. After a minute, she slowly pulled away, slipping his cravat off as she stepped back. His eyes showed surprise, but were dark and piercing as he gazed at her. He stepped forward and dipped his head to kiss her again, but Gabrielle ducked away playfully, remembering what Musichetta had said about making him beg for more.

"Don't you have work to do?" she teased. "Good luck with your studies."

She smirked a bit at the incredulous look on his face and felt a thrill of excitement as the bedroom door closed behind her. Yes, things were definitely going exactly right.

* * *

**So, because y'all are so awesome, I decided to just go ahead and post again tonight. I promised smut and didn't deliver, but I swear it's there in the next chapter! (I had to split a chapter - it was almost 20 pages long otherwise.)**

**ANYWAY. Thanks so much for the reviews! And for those who have inquired in PMs and reviews, my friend has still not been found. It's been 9 days, and there have been two extensive searches of a park in the area, but as far as I know, nothing else has been uncovered. The police haven't released hardly ANY information, so I don't know if they don't have any, or if they are keeping things super under wraps and hopefully doing their jobs really well. I hope her family gets closure soon. Thank you for keeping her in your thoughts. **

**And thank you for reading and reviewing! I'll post again on WEDNESDAY!**


	14. Chapter XIV

Chapter XIV

The next night found Enjolras still working on the paper from the night before. Gabrielle glanced up from her book to see him writing furiously at the desk. The lines around his mouth deepened as he frowned. He paused every once in a while to rub his shoulder and look out the window; whenever he used his hand for too long, the wound in his shoulder began to ache, Gabrielle knew. He was obviously lost in thought about something, and oblivious to her and the world outside. He looked like his old self when he was like this, Gabrielle thought, and it was a wonderful sight to see. The fire was back in his eyes, his curls wild on his head, cravat loosened, and the top of his shirt undone. He was beautiful and intimidating all at once.

After a few more minutes of savage scribbling, Enjolras threw his pen down with a few choice words and Gabrielle jumped. He didn't even glance up at her, but continued staring at the wooden desk, a scowl on his face.

Gabrielle gently laid her book on the sofa after marking her page and stood. He still didn't look at her. She crossed the room and stood next to him, tentatively laying a hand on his shoulder. She could feel the knotted, tense muscles, and nervously, she moved behind him and began to slowly rub his shoulders. He tensed more for a moment at her touch and she almost stopped, but he then sighed and slowly began to relax. Unexpectedly, he reached up and squeezed her hand before dropping it back to his lap.

"What's wrong, Antoine?"

"This essay...examinations, the law," he spat sourly. "It all seems so pointless sometimes. So stupid and silly. Especially after seeing what you're doing, the tangible ways people can be helped. I'm just..." he trailed off, rolling his neck back and forth to ease the tension there.

"Frustrated?" Gabrielle supplied. Enjolras nodded.

"I thought things would be different now." His voice was bitter and it hurt Gabrielle's heart to hear him sound so defeated. She had a feeling beginning to work on the paper was both a good and bad thing; it made him miss and long for what used to be, even as it helped him begin to move on.

"I know," she said softly, and gently kissed the top of his head. His mood changed so rapidly, she reflected. Motivated and almost excited yesterday, and melancholy and moping about the past today.

She didn't know when it had happened, but Gabrielle knew she cared for this man, probably even loved him. She had grown more and more used to the idea over the last few days.

And according to Musichetta, when men were upset...well. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for the rejection he might very well send her way, considering he _was _Enjolras, after all. Gabrielle wanted to try, anyway; it was time to hopefully put more of Musichetta's knowledge into use.

Gabrielle stopped rubbing his shoulders and reached down for his hand instead. "Come with me," she said quietly, and he rose without protest, following her into the bedroom. Keeping her back to him, she began undoing the buttons on the back of her dress. She was quick, and soon they were all loose.

She slipped her arms out of the fabric and slowly turned to face Enjolras, holding her dress up in front of her.

"Gabrielle?" There was a quiet curiosity in his eyes.

Gabrielle took a step towards him as she let the dress fall to her feet. "We've kissed before, and it was...well, it was very nice," she murmured. "And I thought...you might want to..."

Enjolras' eyes widened a bit at the obvious insinuation and he looked away, a muscle in his jaw beginning to twitch. She quickly took his hands and moved them to her waist, over the tight boning of her corset. "I mean, do you...want to?"

"I do not want you to do anything _you_ don't want to," he said softly. "Just because we are married, or because we've kissed, does not mean we have to...to be together. I thought you knew that?" He sounded as if he were talking to a child.

Gabrielle felt embarrassment begin to course through her body. He sounded as if he didn't want her. Maybe she had completely misread his advances, thought too much of the kisses they'd shared.

She was standing before him in only her underclothes and he clearly wasn't interested. She was mortified when she felt tears begin to sting her eyes and knew she was turning red.

Quickly, she stepped back and reached down for her dress, holding it up to cover herself again. She looked at the floor, anywhere but at him, and didn't say anything. For the first time, she regretted marrying Enjolras and a lump formed in her throat.

"Gabrielle," he said with concern. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I mean, that's not to say I don't _want_ you..." it was him turning red now. "But I...do you want to?" he stammered.

Gabrielle looked up at him and glared, her embarrassment suddenly turning into anger. "You stupid man! We are married! This is what married people _do! _ Are we never going to be together, for the rest of our lives? Maybe that is what you want, I don't know, but _you _kissed me the other night and I thought..." she stopped and shook her head. He looked taken aback at her outburst. "I thought it meant you felt something for me..."

Enjolras took a deep breath. He looked baffled, but slowly stepped forward and took Gabrielle's dress in his hands, letting it fall to the floor again.

"I do," he said simply. "I do care for you. I only don't want you to feel obligated or forced." Gently, he kissed her forehead, then both of her cheeks. His touch was tender and a little bit unsure.

"I don't. I want to be with you," Gabrielle said boldly.

Enjolras lowered his head and softly brushed his lips against hers. Gabrielle responded by tangling her hands in his shirt and pressing harder against his mouth. She felt his fingers awkwardly untying the stays behind her back and she reluctantly pulled away, turning around to give him better access. He fumbled a bit with the strings of her corset, and Gabrielle could sense his nervousness. She shivered when she felt his lips against her shoulders and back after he pulled her corset off and tossed it aside, and then gasped when his arms encircled her from behind and tentatively cupped her breasts.

Her corset gone, Enjolras quickly pulled her chemise over her head, as well, and soon she was completely naked in front of him. He lightly touched her shoulder, urging her to turn around, and unconsciously, she moved her arms to cover her breasts.

She raised her eyes to meet his. Instead of his usual cornflower blue, they were dark and piercing. He looked fierce, as if he wanted to devour her, and Gabrielle had a moment of fear that he would be rather rough, but his touch was still gentle. It made her tingle through her body to know she was causing this sort of reaction in him, he who was usually so stoic and composed, he who barely gave women a second thought to the more important matters going through his mind.

He took her arms and lowered them to her sides, looking her up and down. Neither said a word, but finally, Enjolras moved toward her and lowered his mouth to her neck, his hands tangling in her hair and causing the pins to come undone. It tumbled down her back as she leaned into his touch. His lips moved lower until they found her breast and Gabrielle let out a soft whimper as he gently swirled his tongue around the soft flesh. The sound she made seemed to make him more aggressive, and Gabrielle didn't mind when he picked her up and carried her to the bed. He laid her on the soft sheets and began to climb on top of her when Gabrielle stopped him with a hand on his chest. Without a word she began pulling his shirt out of his trousers and he took the hint and pulled it off, tossing it aside.

He quickly covered her body with his and Gabrielle found she didn't mind his weight. She liked feeling his skin against hers, soft and hard, smooth and rough. She bent her right leg so he would fit better against her and let her hands roam over his back. Soon, his hands were traveling everywhere – her breasts, her hips, and then even between her legs. He raised himself off of her and scooted down, keeping his eyes on her face.

Gabrielle's breath quickened as his fingers moved tentatively inside of her and her hands began to grip the sheets, a strange and new feeling pooling in her stomach and spreading through her body. Even if they didn't consciously know what to do, their bodies seemed to instinctively react, and Gabrielle spread her legs farther to give him better access.

She squeezed her eyes shut and gasped as Enjolras hooked one arm around her leg and lowered his mouth. She moaned as she felt his tongue pressing against her, and soon she was gasping his name, her back arched, as a wave of pleasure overtook her. She opened her eyes to find him gazing up at her, fascination and arousal evident in his gaze. He reached up and took her hand, holding it tightly. Gabrielle tangled her other hand in his hair and pulled. She wanted to kiss him, to feel him inside of her, and see his face as he experienced what she was.

He quickly acquiesced and rose, fumbling with his trousers. Gabrielle was past the point of embarrassment and reached out to help him pull them off. He laid back down on top of her and she raised her hips to meet his. She could feel him pressing against her thigh and wrapped her arms around his back, running her hands down his spine. He shivered in response and kissed along her jaw.

"Can I...? Is it alright?" he asked unsteadily.

"Yes, yes, Antoine. Please," she breathed into his ear, and that was all the urging he needed.

He pushed inside of her forcefully and Gabrielle cried out at the sudden pain. Musichetta had warned her, but she had forgotten what was still to come with the intense pleasure that he had just given her.

Enjolras froze. "I'm so sorry. You're hurt?" he looked horrified.

She nodded and bit her lip at the pain. "Yes. Musichetta said it would hurt the first time...but it's alright, Antoine, keep going. Please," she smiled uncertainly and stroked his cheek comfortingly.

He looked unsure, but began pushing in and out of her, trying to go slowly. Gabrielle winced with each new thrust, but kept her eyes on his face. A fine sheen of sweat had broken out on his brow and his eyes never left hers. He looked like he was concentrating, and Gabrielle began to forget the pain as she watched his eyes squeeze shut at these new sensations he was feeling.

"I...I can't..." he finally gasped and he began to thrust faster, grunting with the effort of trying to hold himself back. He finally let go and Gabrielle thought he was beautiful in that moment – no longer hard, stoic marble, but just an extraordinary man who had finally let himself surrender to a passion usually reserved only for his _Patria._

He slowly pulled out of her, and Gabrielle kissed his damp curls as he lowered his head to chest. She realized he was shaking and asked uncertainly, "Are you alright, Antoine?"

He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the bed a little bit, and kissed her breasts reverently. "I didn't...I mean to say, I didn't know it would be like that," he said quietly.

Gabrielle knew he had never been with a woman before, but she didn't know he would admit it to her. "It was okay?" She was worried she had done something wrong or not pleased him enough, though he sounded as if he'd enjoyed himself.

He raised his eyes to hers and smiled in wonderment. "Gabrielle, Aphrodite herself couldn't surpass your beauty in my eyes."

Gabrielle blushed fiercely and bit her lip. He had called her beautiful. "Antoine, I know you have the heart of a revolutionary, but I didn't know you had the heart of a poet, as well. You mean to flatter me."

"I do," he said seriously as he climbed off of her and pulled her into his chest. "Then perhaps you will have me again..." he murmured as he began kissing her neck.

Gabrielle smiled and said slowly, "Of course I will. I am your wife, Antoine, and I _want_ to be with you. I want to know your heart."

Enjolras squeezed her hand and ceased kissing her. "It is hard for me, Gabrielle, to open up to you...to anyone. But I will try," he said sincerely.

Gabrielle sat up, pulling the sheet with her to cover her chest. She looked down at him and said tentatively, "Antoine...I need you to know I do not expect any declarations of love. I know that we are married because my brother asked you to care for me, that I am an obligation you took on because of guilt. I know, and I _understand_, that I will never come first for you. I just need you to know that I accept that and I don't mind. I do hope that we can be friends, though, and take care of each other? Help each other?" She bit her lip, uncertain.

He searched her face for a moment, then gently tugged her back down to his chest and smoothed her hair, running his fingers through her dark curls. "Thank you, Gabrielle. I will take care of you...and I'll even try," he said with a smile, "to let you take care of me every once in a while."

Gabrielle nodded and closed her eyes, feeling incredibly content. She listened to the steady rhythm of Enjolras' heartbeat and felt his breath slow as he fell asleep. She soon drifted off to join him.

* * *

When Gabrielle awoke the next morning, she was alone, but there was a note laying next to her on the pillow.

_Gabrielle,_

_ You looked so peaceful I didn't want to wake you. I was tempted to skip class today and stay in bed with you, but duty won out. I will see you this evening._

_ ~E_

Gabrielle smiled – even his mere contemplation of staying in bed with her and skipping class was unlike Enjolras. Last night must have been just as good as Gabrielle remembered.

She stretched and winced a bit at the pain she felt between her legs. Musichetta had failed to mention how long that would last. Eventually, Gabrielle rose and dressed hastily, calling on the landlady to draw her a bath. Once she had bathed and eaten breakfast, Gabrielle descended the two flights of stairs to Musichetta's apartment and knocked on the door.

"Gabrielle! I didn't expect you today, my love, come in." Musichetta kissed her cheek and ushered her in the door. "Enjolras is off to class, I suppose? Do you have to be at the church to help today?"

"No, we aren't serving a meal today. We had to limit it to only four days a week for now, because of money. I was hoping I could maybe help you?" Gabrielle asked hopefully.

"Help me!" Musichetta exclaimed. "But you must be truly and utterly bored to want to help me. Usually on days like this you're working on your 'book.'"

Gabrielle smiled and shrugged. "Yes, well. I'm a little distracted today. I thought it would be nice to keep moving."

"Well, unlucky for you, I've already finished for the day. It _is _almost two o'clock, you know...half the day is gone."

Gabrielle started. "Two o'clock?! I didn't realize it was so late. I've never slept in so long in my life."

Musichetta narrowed her eyes. "And why was today so different?" she asked curiously.

Gabrielle blushed. She had _really _come down here to hopefully get more advice from Musichetta, but now that she was here, she didn't know how to talk about last night. She opened and closed her mouth, unsure where to begin.

Suddenly, Musichetta's eyes widened and she clapped her hands. "Oh! You didn't! You and Enjolras! You finally _did it, _didn't you?! That was fast!"

"I...well...yes. We did." Gabrielle smiled slowly and then laughed along with Musichetta. "We really did."

Musichetta leaned forward and said conspiratorially, "And was he good? I always imagined he'd be a passionate lover, he's so passionate in everything else he does. And are you alright? Did it hurt too much for you, dear?"

Gabrielle bit her lip, feeling a bit embarrassed at Musichetta's forthrightness. "It was...well, it was interesting. I mean, it was _good. _It was very nice, in fact. But yes, it did hurt. I'm still a bit sore. When will that go away?"

Musichetta patted her hand. "Oh, it will take a few days. But now it will never hurt again, only feel better and better the more used to it you get. I can't believe Enjolras finally gave into a woman. I was beginning to think it would never happen. You must be special, Gabrielle." Musichetta winked at her.

Shaking her head vehemently, Gabrielle replied, "No, I am not. We are not..._in love_, 'Chetta. But we are married, and were we to avoid it forever?"

Musichetta looked at her skeptically. "You can't fool me, Gabrielle. You are most certainly in love with that man. I've known that from the moment you appeared on the doorstep after quitting your job, with him half dead in the next room. Don't tell me you haven't admitted it to yourself?"

Gabrielle sighed and rolled her eyes at Musichetta. "Really, Musichetta. Of course I have...I just...well, I'm not sure he feels the same. I know he cares for me, but I don't know if it is _love."_

"Only time will tell, but I don't think you have much to worry about. Now, what other fun things can I tell you?" Musichetta's eyes sparkled, and Gabrielle sat expectantly.

"Really, I want to hear it all. Tell me _exactly _what to do."

* * *

A few hours later, Gabrielle was back in Enjolras' apartment (she still thought of it as his and not theirs), trying to write in the bedroom, when the front door opened. She recognized Enjolras' footsteps and turned around after a minute to see him standing in the doorway watching her.

She smiled tentatively, suddenly nervous to see him. "Hello. How was class today?"

Enjolras walked in and sat on the edge of the bed near her chair. "The same as usual. Did you have a good day?"

Gabrielle nodded. "Yes. I was so tired I slept until nearly two o'clock and didn't even realize it until Musichetta told me the time..." she rambled, then blushed furiously when she realized what she had alluded to.

Enjolras blushed, too, and cleared his throat. "Yes, well. I brought home some dinner. I thought we could stay in tonight?" he asked.

"Of course. Let me just finish this and I'll be right out." Gabrielle reached out to grasp his hand for a moment and was surprised when he hurriedly stood and pulled away, retreating from the bedroom. What was that? That was the most awkward encounter they had ever shared.

Was this how it was going to be from now on? Had he changed his mind? Did he think last night was a mistake? Gabrielle closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. _Stop it! _She told herself. _He's just nervous...he doesn't have any experience when it comes to women. He doesn't know how to treat you._

After composing herself, Gabrielle stood and smoothed her dress, then went into the front room. Enjolras had their simple dinner of bread and cheese laid out on the table, and Gabrielle smiled when she saw a basket of ripe apples sitting on the counter. "Oh, you brought apples! Thank you. They're my favorite," Gabrielle said. She was afraid her voice sounded too cheery, trying to make up for the awkwardness she felt.

"Are they? I didn't know." Enjolras sat down and avoided her eyes like he used to. It seemed nothing would ever be easy with him, Gabrielle thought.

She sat down across from him and began eating the fresh bread thoughtfully, trying to think of a topic that would put him at ease and get him talking. "Did you finish the paper you were working on last night?"

"Yes."

"And...it's good?"

"Yes."

Gabrielle frowned, already getting frustrated. "Did you have a bad day, Antoine?"

"No, why?" he asked, finally meeting her gaze.

"Because you haven't looked at me properly since you came home and you're answering questions with one word. Naturally, I wondered if something is bothering you..."

Enjolras sighed and leaned back in his chair, finally looking at her. "I apologize, Gabrielle. Nothing is wrong. In fact," he confessed, "I was looking forward to seeing you all day. And then, when I got here, I felt...strange."

She stared at him for a moment, then smiled. "I felt it, too. But there's no reason for us to feel strange, Antoine. Nothing has changed _really. _We're still friends. Like I said last night, I don't expect more. I just don't want to be alone," she said truthfully.

Enjolras reached across the table and took her hand, rubbing his thumb up along her wrist. "You won't be alone, Gabrielle. And I'm sorry, again. You're right, of course."

They ate the rest of their meal in companionable silence. Before long, Enjolras rose and bid her goodnight. She tried to read for a few minutes, but couldn't concentrate on her book. She still felt uneasy, even though Enjolras had seemed to relax after their brief talk. He was probably asleep already, so Gabrielle rose and went into the bedroom. It was so dark she could barely see, so she couldn't tell if her husband was awake or not.

She reached behind her to undo the buttons on her dress when she suddenly felt Enjolras' large hands covering hers. She jumped, startled, and he put his hands on her shoulders to steady her. "You scared me!" she whispered.

"I'm sorry. Why are you whispering, Gabrielle?"

She frowned. "I don't know, really...it feels like you should whisper in the dark, doesn't it?"

She thought it sweet that he wanted to help her undress – he had never done so before tonight, and Gabrielle felt a spark of hope at this new intimacy. It took him longer than it would have taken her to get her dress and corset off, but she let him do it, anyway. When she was undressed, he pulled the covers up on the bed and allowed her to climb in next to him. It was still too black to see his features properly, but she could now make out his outline in the dark.

They lay facing each other and didn't speak for several minutes. Finally, Gabrielle asked quietly, "Antoine?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you...well, do you regret last night?"

"What? No. Absolutely not," he said firmly. "Do you?"

"No, not at all. It was amazing," she whispered, feeling her cheeks burn.

Enjolras reached out and pulled her closer to him, pressing his lips to her neck. She shivered a bit, finding she liked being kissed there. His lips moved to just below her ear, kissing and sucking gently, and she sighed with pleasure, tilting her head back. "Do you like that?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes," she answered, "But, Antoine, we can't tonight..."

He began running his hands down her hip, angling her body to better fit against his. "Why? Does it still hurt for you?" he asked with concern. She said that it did, and he immediately replied, "Then of course we don't have to, Gabrielle."

He kept kissing her anyway, though, and moved his lips down her neck to the tops of her breasts. He kissed them through the sheer fabric of her chemise and Gabrielle's body automatically responded, her back arching into his touch. He doubled his efforts, sliding a hand under her chemise to gently knead the sensitive skin of her other breast. She could feel him growing hard against her leg and found herself a bit fascinated.

Gabrielle groaned and said softly, "You're making this difficult, but...it's not just that it hurts, Antoine." She sat up and tugged him up, too. "I can't think with you touching me like that," she mumbled, removing his hands from her body.

"Well, what is it?" he asked.

"Do you want children?" she asked bluntly.

He didn't answer for a moment, but then said slowly and with understanding, "Not particularly, no..."

Gabrielle sighed. "I had a feeling you would say that. In that case, we have to be careful, and I don't have the things Musichetta told me to get."

"You discussed this with _Musichetta?" _ He sounded horrified.

Gabrielle lightly hit his arm. "Of course, Antoine! Who else would I discuss it with? _Cosette?_ They probably have no idea what they're doing, either." She blushed. She always said things without thinking.

She was surprised to hear a snort of laughter from Enjolras. "Probably not."

They were both quiet for a few moments, and then Gabrielle felt his hands in her hair. She was surprised at his fearlessness with her. Just twenty-four hours ago, they barely ever touched, and now he could barely keep his hands off of her, at least in the dark.

"Gabrielle, do you want children?" he asked suddenly, and a little fearfully.

She took a deep breath and shrugged. "I've never really thought it was even a possibility," she said truthfully. "I'm not really sure. I don't think so. I can't imagine being someone's mother."

"Oh," Enjolras said quietly. She could hear the relief in his voice. He laid back down and kept one hand on the small of her back until she joined him again. Gabrielle laid down with her back against him and he wrapped an arm around her waist. Once again, she felt a feeling of security and promise that she wasn't used to.

"_Bonne nuit_, Antoine."

* * *

**I said I would update today! I woke up ridiculously early because I've been having so much trouble sleeping, so...what the heck, here it is. **

**GUYS, I'M UP TO 88 REVIEWS AS I POST THIS! I would LOVE to hit 100 with this chapter! Please, please, if you're reading, drop me a review, especially since I'm so nervous to post this! (And I know more of you are reading than reviewing!)**

**Thank you for your incredible enthusiasm for this little project that has taken over my life a little bit. It makes me so happy to read your reviews and reactions. I hope this chapter didn't disappoint!**

**~A**


	15. Chapter XV

Chapter XV

The next few days flew by quickly, and both Gabrielle and Enjolras were so tired every night they barely said two words to each other before falling asleep; however, one thing had changed since they made love for the first time: in the morning, Gabrielle usually found her body tangled with his. Her leg thrown over his hips, his arm holding her firmly against him, or her head resting on his chest had all become familiar in the last week. Even though they hadn't made love again, it all felt remarkably intimate. Whenever she happened to wake before Enjolras, Gabrielle stayed frozen for as long as she possibly could, just to enjoy his touch.

The more time that went by, the more Gabrielle felt herself daydreaming about being with him again, as well, and the more frenzied their hurried kisses and touches had become.

Word had finally gotten out about the churches serving meals in the evening, though, and the work was taking up more and more of her time. Gabrielle found herself sadly turning many people away every night, since they didn't have the money to buy more food. Genevieve had been devoting herself almost entirely to fundraising and leaving Gabrielle in charge of coordinating everything else, and Cosette had proven to be an invaluable help, too. Gabrielle suspected she was really only involved because of Marius, but she respected the other young woman's work ethic just the same. For being so demure and ladylike, Cosette wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty at all.

The paper had been momentarily put on hold, since both Marius and Enjolras were about to take their final exams. Enjolras had already begun working a few days a week for Monsieur Durand, as well, and Marius with his grandfather. Gabrielle noticed how Enjolras' tension slowly faded away after he climbed into bed each evening, though, and she hoped it had something to do with her. She certainly forgot everything when she was in his arms.

One night, she found herself at the church, as usual, cleaning up after a long day of cooking and serving meals. The kitchen was a mess, but the stack of dirty dishes was slowly getting smaller with Cosette's help. Just as she finished washing one pile, she looked up to see Enjolras in the doorway. He looked tired, but his eyes brightened as they met hers.

"Antoine! What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd stop by and see you for a moment. You look busy, though..." He glanced around at the mess and said hello to Cosette.

Cosette greeted Enjolras over her shoulder and then said, "She isn't too busy to see you for a few minutes. Go ahead, Gabrielle, I'm fine here."

"Are you sure you're alright?"

At Cosette's nod of insistence, Gabrielle dried her hands, removed her apron, and walked over to Enjolras, taking his hand as he led her from the hot and stuffy kitchen. They wandered outside to the little courtyard between the kitchen and the hall where the homeless slept every night. It wasn't large, but it was secluded and private. Enjolras glanced around to see if anyone else was about before tugging Gabrielle behind some tall bushes, successfully hiding them from anyone walking by on the little pathway.

She grinned and squeezed his hand, her stomach doing a giddy somersault at his sweet and endearing behavior. "What are we doing hidden back here?"

He abruptly pulled her close to him and leaned down, burying his face in her neck. "I wanted to see you," he mumbled, gently kissing just below her ear. "I'm going to work tonight, of all things, and you're on the way there, and I couldn't stop myself from coming here."

"Oh." Gabrielle ran her fingers through his hair and tilted her head back as his lips moved over her skin. "Well, I'm glad you're here..." She shivered a bit as he found her pulse and concentrated there.

Enjolras' hand wandered from her waist to her breast and Gabrielle bit her lip as he trailed his fingers over flesh, sensitive even through her layers of clothing. She glanced around to make sure they were still alone, her hand moving to cover his and pull it back to her waist. "Antoine," she chastised, though she wasn't really annoyed or nervous at all. "What has gotten into you?"

He pulled away and frowned.

"I don't know, actually." He leaned down and kissed her roughly, his tongue mingling with hers, and Gabrielle returned his ardor. She found his passion unbelievably attractive, especially since it was so unexpected.

"You have too many clothes on," he mumbled against her lips and Gabrielle laughed, playfully trying to pull away again.

"While I agree, we really shouldn't do this here..."

He glared at her and pulled her back to him. "No one is around."

"Not now, but they could be at any time. And I shouldn't leave Cosette alone..." Even though Gabrielle desperately wanted him, and didn't really care where or how, she knew she spoke the truth. It would be horribly embarrassing if they were caught.

Enjolras finally sighed and leaned back against the brick wall behind him, letting his hands drop to his sides in defeat. "I suppose you're right. I know you have work to do. And I'll probably be very late tonight, there's no need to wait up for me."

Gabrielle smiled and stepped closer, resting her hands on his chest.

"Well, _don't _be late_," _she stressed._ "_Come home earlier than you plan to and I _will _wait for you."

In fact, she couldn't imagine waiting hardly another minute, but she had to. Gabrielle thought of more of Musichetta's advice and blushed, gently kissing the exposed skin at the base of his throat. _If he is brave enough to touch me, I can do the same to him..._

Before she could talk herself out of it, Gabrielle boldly let her hand trail down his chest and rest on the front of his pants. He was already hard, she noticed, and Enjolras gripped her arms, sucking in a deep breath as she squeezed.

His reaction was better than anticipated. For being able to usually hide his emotions so well, Gabrielle mused, Enjolras did have trouble doing so when surprised. His eyes darkened, and Gabrielle leaned up and kissed him, wrapping her other arm around his neck. He kissed her back, his breath becoming ragged, and Gabrielle had a feeling that if she didn't stop soon, he wouldn't be able to.

And besides, teasing him _was_ rather fun...

As abruptly as she'd started, she stopped, and quickly took a step back. She grinned at his scowl, and thought he had never looked more handsome than he did at that moment. She looked pointedly down at his swollen trousers and raised her eyebrows. "So...I can expect you home _early?_"

He looked a bit bewildered and shook his head.

"How did this even happen to me?" he asked seriously, and Gabrielle snorted in laughter. She backed away slowly, still waiting for his answer, and he finally nodded. "Yes, I'll see you _early_."

"Good. Goodbye, Antoine!" Gabrielle turned and practically skipped away, still giddy from the feel of his lips on hers.

She was back in the kitchen before he had moved, and only grinned in answer when Cosette raised her eyebrows at Gabrielle's swollen lips.

* * *

_Damn her,_ Enjolras thought to himself. When had he become a man who cared about these kinds of physical, earthly things, who found himself imagining, at the most inappropriate times of day, how amazing it felt to be inside of her, how soft her lips were, how good she had tasted...

He had never craved physical pleasure like other men. Yes, he had been attracted to several women over the years and been intrigued by the idea of sex, but it just never seemed _that _important. Maybe this insatiable need he couldn't shake would have happened sooner if he had actually given into his occasional cravings, but Enjolras had always prided himself on being able to see the bigger picture and lay aside distractions.

He had work to do. He had a life to try and get back, a purpose to regain, and he found himself thinking of a woman? He was no better than Pontmercy, thinking of Gabrielle when there were more important and pressing things going on in the world.

And yet, he still found himself leaving a pile of work on his desk at Durand's office and going home within the hour. He couldn't concentrate on anything, anyway.

He opened the door to the apartment to find it dark.

"Gabrielle?" Enjolras cursed as he tripped over a book on the floor. They really needed a bigger place to live, he thought.

"In here," Gabrielle's voice called softly from the bedroom.

Enjolras wasted no time – if this was all he'd been thinking about, he certainly wasn't going to play games tonight – and tore off his coat, waistcoat, and shirt, leaving a trail of clothing in his wake as he crossed the room to the bedchamber.

Despite the chill, the window was open, bathing Gabrielle in soft moonlight. Her hair was loose, just as Enjolras liked it, and fell down her back in loose waves. The bed sheet covered her chest, but as she turned to look at him, she let it fall, seeing he was already half-naked himself.

Enjolras quickly unbuttoned his pants and slipped them off, noticing how Gabrielle's eyes trailed down his body to study him. He felt his skin growing hot under her gaze.

"You came home early." She smiled and beckoned him over to the bed with a finger.

Enjolras stopped at the edge and said in a rather disgruntled tone, "And left a mountain of work to do. You're going to get me fired before I've even really started."

"Me?" she said innocently, and reached for his hand, pulling him down on top of her. "I am most certainly not your master..."

"No?" He kissed her shoulder, nuzzling her neck with his nose. "I can't seem to concentrate on much of anything since being with you. I'm completely useless."

Gabrielle hooked her leg around his and Enjolras shifted, pressing against her. "I disagree," she said, "I think you may be rather good at this..."

Enjolras smiled, running a hand over her hips. "Can I...?" He suddenly felt a bit nervous. He didn't know if he would still hurt her, and though he didn't want to be with her if it would cause her pain, he also thought he might go throw himself into the Seine if he couldn't be inside of her soon.

She nodded and raised her hips to meet his. He inserted himself in her slowly and closed his eyes at the sensation.

Gabrielle let out a soft breath against his ear and Enjolras moaned. How annoying that this felt so good. He began to move, pushing in and out of her, and finding her little breathless gasps alarmingly alluring.

"It doesn't hurt anymore?" he worried.

She shook her head. "God, no...please keep going, please."

She grasped his arms tightly, beginning to move with him. His breath quickened, and he captured her mouth as she whispered his name, kissing her deeply. She whimpered against his lips and pulled away, throwing her head back and gasping. It was all he took to bring him to the edge, and Enjolras soon found himself collapsing on top of her. She pushed his damp curls away from his forehead and he raised his eyes to hers, moving to lie beside her.

Gabrielle turned to face him, her fingers tracing circles on his chest and shoulders. When he felt calm enough to speak again, he said quietly, "This is going to take some getting used to."

"Yes. It's rather overwhelming."

They didn't speak again for some time, but Enjolras wrapped his arms around Gabrielle and pulled her into his chest.

"Are you really...are you angry about this happening between us? You seemed so genuinely annoyed to be here, but then you also seem to _enjoy _it. Sometimes I don't know what to make of you," Gabrielle admitted.

"I don't know what to make of it myself, Gabrielle. It's just so different..." Enjolras didn't know how to explain himself, but he felt dreadful thinking he had made her feel bad in any way.

"Well, we've never been with anyone else. Maybe it just takes some getting used to?" Gabrielle ran her hand against his jaw, tracing his lips with her fingers. He felt himself growing aroused again at her touch and leaned forward to kiss her.

Maybe it would feel more normal with time, less consuming and overpowering. And, he mused, at least it did feel good.

* * *

_Raucous laughter drifted down the stairs leading to the second floor of the Caf__é__ Musain, and Enjolras was annoyed at how late he was. Nothing in the world bothered him more than being late, and consequently, he was usually the first to arrive. Today was different, however; he had been busy meeting with his source, a servant of General Lamarque's, to learn more about the general's condition. And so now Enjolras was late to his own emergency meeting._

_ Late or not, he now had the valuable information he needed. General Lamarque was not expected to live, and that gave them possibly only days to gather everything the Les Amis needed for their barricade. More guns, more ammunition, more _people_...all of that would be helpful. Enjolras didn't know if he could pull any of it off, though he would never let his doubts show in front of his friends._

_ He entered the room and dropped his bag on a table. His friends immediately quieted a bit at his presence._

_ "You're late," Combeferre pointed out. "You must have a good reason."_

_ "Actually, yes..."_

_ "I know exactly why he's late," Courfeyrac interrupted, an uncharacteristic sneer of derision on his face._

_ Enjolras raised his eyebrows, taken aback. "Well then, please, Courfeyrac, tell me."_

_ "Gladly. While we all sit here waiting on our fearless leader, you're busy _fucking_ Feuilly's sister."_

_ Enjolras' mouth fell open. "Excuse me? What gives you the right to imply..."_

_ "He's not implying, Enjolras, he's telling. We're all dead, and there you sit, with that _fool _Pontmercy, fawning over your women. What gives you the right?" Bossuet said icily._

_ Enjolras took a step back, feeling bile rise in his throat. What did Bossuet mean, they were dead?_

_ "What...what in the hell are you all talking about?" Enjolras glanced around the room, noticing a few missing faces: Marius, Joly, Feuilly...where were they?_

_ "Don't you remember, Enjolras?" Enjolras turned at the sound of Grantaire's voice close to his ear. _

_ "I gave you everything," Grantaire whispered, hurt and desperation in his eyes. "We gave you everything, and your little _revolution..." _he spat the word, scowling, and paused for effect, "...it killed us. All of us. Dead because of you, in just one night. Yet you live? And you dare to be happy, sitting on your arse in a law office all day, making love to your wife every night? It's despicable." Grantaire spat at Enjolras' feet._

_ Enjolras sputtered, his terror growing as foggy memories began to resurface. He squeezed his eyes shut, and jumped at a sudden deafening volley of gunfire echoing throughout the room. When he finally dared open his eyes again, he was horrified to see the bodies of his friends laying on the floor, their eyes open and unseeing, crimson blood spreading across their chests. And he could hear the soldiers downstairs, trying to get up, trying to get to him and Grantaire, the only two left standing..._

_ Grantaire reached out a hand and roughly pushed on Enjolras' chest. "It should have been you," he said coldly._

Enjolras jerked awake with a gasp, sitting straight up in bed. His chest was heaving, and he had broken out in a cold sweat. He closed his eyes, trying to banish their faces from his mind.

"Antoine?" Gabrielle whispered beside him. She laid a tentative hand on his back and scooted closer, gently kissing his bare shoulder. "Are you alright?"

He cringed at her touch, remembering Courfeyrac's words. What right did he have to be with her? To experience actual pleasure? He had killed his friends...

"Did you have a dream?" Gabrielle pressed quietly. She ran her hand down his spine and he sighed, lifting his knees and resting his head against them. He felt like a terrified child, terror creeping up on him in the night. It wasn't the first time it had happened since the barricade, but it was usually just horrible memories, and not burning accusations from his dead friends. _Was _it just a dream, or was it some sort of message from beyond the grave, Enjolras wondered? They had every right to be furious with him. How could he let himself feel anything but sorrow?

"Yes, I had a dream." He hated himself for the comfort he felt from Gabrielle's touch.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

Enjolras turned his head toward her and said hoarsely, "No."

"Oh." Gabrielle tried to disguise the hurt on her face, and he immediately felt even angrier at himself for hurting her as he felt her hand drop away from his back. "I understand, of course, but...you know I won't judge you," she whispered.

Enjolras watched her silently, the minutes ticking by. She didn't look at him, but played with a loose thread in the sheets, holding them modestly up against her bare chest. He couldn't read the expression on her face, and wondered which one of them would give in first, or if they would sit there all night long.

"Go back to sleep, Gabrielle," he finally mumbled, and pulled the sheets back, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed and preparing to rise. There would be no more rest for him that night. Perhaps not ever.

"No," she said forcefully, and reached out to grab his arm, fire burning in her eyes. It was unexpected. "That's not fair, Antoine. I can guess what your dream was about, I don't need you to tell me. And I don't need you to push me away. Why won't you let me help you?"

He looked at her sadly, covering her hand with his own. "I don't deserve your help, Gabrielle. I don't deserve to do these _things_ we've been doing with each other, I don't deserve to make love to you, to feel any sort of happiness..."

Her eyes softened and she tugged on his arm, trying to pull him back into bed.

"I do. _I_ deserve it," she stressed.

His chest constricted at her words, even more guilt suddenly piling upon his shoulders. How could he ever give her what she wanted, what she deserved in a husband?

It seemed she wouldn't take no for an answer, however, and before he knew it, she had climbed into his lap, straddling his hips and holding him down. Enjolras automatically wrapped his arms around her back.

Gabrielle cupped his face and forced him to look at her. "All of this was your idea," she said lightly, trying to change his mood. "You started it, with this ridiculous idea of marriage, and you kissed me first," she reminded him, planting a gentle kiss on the top of his nose. "You don't get to change your mind now, not after the last two weeks that we've been together..."

It had been going so well, he thought. They had promised to do what needed to be done during the day, to forcibly put distractions aside and concentrate on the important matters they were both devoted to. But, at night, they gave in and lost themselves in each other and it had seemed to be balancing out. He had finally begun to feel like himself again, or rather, a _new_ version of himself.

He frowned. "I'm not changing my mind, Gabrielle, it's more complicated than that..."

She shook her head and interrupted. "No, it isn't. You will let yourself get lost in your guilt again if I leave you alone. You'll pull away from me, and stop talking, and give me sad looks, like you've ruined my life. So," she shrugged, "I'll use your guilt to my advantage, if I have to. You owe it to my brother to make me happy."

He glared at her for a moment, a little bit in awe of her easy manipulation and forthrightness.

"You are wicked," he replied, and found his lips curving upward in an impressed half-smile.

"Oh?" She smirked playfully, and slowly began to grind her hips against his. He cursed himself for immediately feeling aroused, his body betraying him. Easily manipulated, indeed.

"You deserve to be happy, too, Antoine. And I know you've felt happy, here with me...haven't you?" she whispered, pressing her lips to his cheek.

"Yes..." he finally admitted.

"Then stop thinking," she urged, moving her hips again and trailing kisses along his jaw. His grip tightened as he felt her move against him, her breasts brushing against his chest. He finally gave in and kissed her roughly, his hands moving to her bottom. Gabrielle abruptly pulled away, lifting herself onto her knees, and slowly sank down onto his length. She had become fearless with him, and he couldn't imagine being more turned on by anyone or anything.

He scooted farther back onto the bed and she pushed him down onto his back, keeping her hands firmly on his chest and leaning forward. He was fascinated watching her face as she pivoted her hips. She threw her head back, her movements speeding up a bit. He thrust up into her and she leaned down, kissing him deeply. There was a frenzy to their touches and movements this time, and their love-making wasn't as gentle as usual. Neither minded, and Enjolras found himself covering Gabrielle's mouth to stifle her screams as she came. As strangely proud as it made him to know he made those noises come out of her, his modesty didn't want the whole building to know what they were doing.

Later, as he lay awake watching her sleep, completely sated and satisfied, his dream came back to him. Courfeyrac and Graintaire's words still stung, imaginary though they may be. And he wondered why, out of all the _Les Amis_, Feuilly was the only one who hadn't made an appearance, when he perhaps had the most to be angry about of them all.

* * *

In a few days, Enjolras met Joly and Marius for lunch. They had decided to proceed with the paper since exams were now behind them, and ever since his rather disturbing dream, Enjolras had felt the fire flowing through his blood again. He should have never stopped or given up at all, he often chastised himself. He couldn't let his friends deaths be in vain. And every day, he was still confronted with the desperate people of the streets, starving and diseased. Such injustice and blatant disregard for humanity should never be allowed.

He was tired, but motivated, and fell back into the role of a leader easily, though it was of a rather smaller group than he was used to. He hadn't yet brought the paper to Durand's attention; he supposed the air of secrecy they had always borne hadn't yet left him.

"What about printers? Do you think some of our old sources would be willing to let us use their presses? A paper is rather bigger than a few flyers," Joly pointed out.

"We'll pay them, of course. We probably won't make a dime out of this at all," Enjolras said, "so I hope neither of you were counting on that."

"No. In fact, I figure we'll come out on the other side," Marius grinned. "Though I hope it doesn't force us all into bankruptcy."

"It shouldn't. Now, how big should this be? What will we include?"

"You should write the first piece," Joly said firmly. "State our objectives, what we aim for, wish for. Although..." he hesitated. "I don't think you should use your name. I hope you're smarter than that."

"I'm not scared to," Enjolras insisted, though he knew it was foolish.

"No, but you have Gabrielle to think of now," Marius reminded him.

Enjolras frowned, and suddenly found himself telling Joly and Marius about his dream from a few weeks ago, and Grantaire's biting accusations. He didn't know why it came tumbling out of him, but he felt relief once the words had been released into the air.

Both men were silent for several minutes after Enjolras stopped speaking, not used to him actually opening up about much of anything other than his passion for his country.

Enjolras ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I shouldn't burden you both with my troubles."

"It isn't a burden," Marius insisted. "Don't you realize we both have the same thoughts? Frequently?"

Enjolras raised his eyebrows. Honestly, it hadn't occurred to him to think that Marius and Joly may have been just as affected by the barricade as him, at least where guilt was concerned.

"I still have nightmares," Joly admitted. "And immense guilt. I'm the one who _left_, Enjolras."

"I made you," Enjolras reminded him.

"We could talk in circles about it all day," Marius said sensibly. "We all wish it would have been different, that our friends were still here with us. But we can't change the past."

They were silent again for a while and Enjolras began scribbling on the paper in front of him, jotting down random ideas.

Joly's voice suddenly broke into his thoughts. "_Are_ you happy with her, Enjolras? With Gabrielle?"

Enjolras paused and glanced up at them, feeling his cheeks turning uncomfortably red. "Perhaps..."

Marius grinned and elbowed Joly in the side, taking delight in Enjolras' embarrassment. "You owe me, Joly. I told you he was in love with her."

Joly shrugged. "I never said he wasn't, I just said he might be too dense to realize it."

"I've realized no such thing," Enjolras insisted. "I care for her. I enjoy being with her. I enjoy...well..." he shrugged and said casually, "I enjoy the _benefits_ of being married."

Joly's mouth fell open. "Wait, _what? _Are you two sleeping together? I thought that wasn't part of your agreement with her at all..."

"It wasn't. But it's happened, anyway," Enjolras said matter-of-factly. "And that's all I'm going to say about it."

Marius clamped his lips together to keep from laughing, but Joly pressed on. "I can't even believe you finally did it! I often thought you should have just been a priest! Without the particular love of religion, of course..."

Enjolras glared at him. "Honestly, Joly." He rose and began to gather his things. "I'm not going to talk about it with you. Gabrielle deserves better than that. And Feuilly would kill me, were he here."

"Oh, no he wouldn't..." Marius said quietly.

Enjolras stopped. "Of course he would. It's pathetic, really, how everything has happened with us. She deserves more than me."

"No, he thought you were rather well suited for her, actually," Marius said. "He told me so, that night you walked her home. I swear it."

Enjolras was puzzled. "He did?"

Marius nodded, watching Enjolras' reaction.

Enjolras carefully made his face blank, and put the rest of his papers in his bag. "Shall we go?"

"That's all you have to say?"

"Yes. For now."

Marius and Joly rose and followed Enjolras, and he missed the knowing look that passed between them behind his back.

They began walking, and the subject soon changed to other things, namely the new cases they had been given at work. The street was busy, and Enjolras found himself squeezing through and around people as they hurried back to work.

"Enjolras!" Enjolras stopped and turned back at Joly's shout. Joly beckoned him back over to a shop window. "Marius went inside to get something for Cosette."

Enjolras nodded and glanced at the things in the window, wandering to the shop next door. His eyes immediately flew to a hand-painted fan in the window, a memory fluttering to the forefront of his mind as he studied the painted silk. _"There was a fan he painted, of Orpheus playing his lyre at the edge of the water, with nymphs all around. The colors were so bright and vivid, and it was so detailed, so _him. _I wanted to break the window and take it, but I didn't have the nerve...and now I suppose I will never see it again." _Gabrielle had looked so sad that night.

Enjolras squinted, his heart beating rapidly. He called Joly over to see it.

"Do you think it could be Feuilly's?" he asked hopefully.

Joly was practically jumping with excitement. "Whose else could it be? If that's how she described it, I don't think it could be any other! Go buy it, Enjolras, it will mean everything to Gabrielle!"

"Of course." Enjolras hurried into the shop and bought the fan, finding his stomach doing strange somersaults once it was actually in his hands. This was Feuilly's; he had touched it, lovingly painted the soft silk with his own hands. Gabrielle wouldn't believe he had found it for her.

Enjolras carried the fan back outside and found both Marius and Joly waiting for him.

"Good God, Enjolras, finding that fan is like finding a needle in a haystack," Marius said wonderingly.

"Lets see it closer," Joly said. "Did he put his name on it?"

Enjolras opened the fan, searching for Feuilly's tiny signature. They found it on the very edge, so miniscule it was hard to make out, but it was there.

"What luck," Joly mumbled. "I can't believe you spotted it."

Marius smiled and clapped Enjolras on the shoulder. "I think you need not look any further for Feuilly's approval, Enjolras. Maybe that wasn't luck at all."

* * *

**You guys are SO AWESOME. I love you all, seriously. Your reviews are great, but so are your PMs, and I really enjoy talking to each and every one of you about this story!**

**With that said, if you want to follow me on Twitter, just search for IrishSongBird. (I'm super boring over there, though, seriously.)**

**And also, I was thinking...does anyone have anything they really want to see from this story? Some random scene, pre-barricade/post-barricade/way in the future/smut-wise/babies, etc? If you give me a prompt, I may either a) work it into the story if it fits or b) write it in a one-shot or series of out-takes. (I already have several that I wrote early on and now don't really fit, but I may post them separately if there's interest.) You can write the prompt in a review or PM and I'll see what I can do.**

**And last...I'm kind of finding myself planning a sequel to this already, since I was kind of wondering to myself what Enjolras and Gabrielle's roles would have been in the eventual and real revolution of 1848. Enjolras would roughly be, what? 39/40 years old. And Gabrielle 34 or 35. So they'd be around, in my cracked out alternate universe. AND I LOVE HISTORY. Ha We'll see what happens. Any interest in this, either?**

**Thanks for reading, wonderful people!**


	16. Chapter XVI

Chapter XVI

When Gabrielle arrived home from the church that evening, she was appalled at the state of the apartment. Books were tossed about everywhere, discarded clothes were on the floor, and piles and piles of papers from the law office were randomly scattered about wherever Enjolras had left them. The desk was piled so high it was practically unusable. The bedroom was in no better shape, either.

"What absolutely disgusting people we are," she said, laughing to herself. "Who lets their home get this messy?"

They hadn't exactly been spending time in the apartment, she supposed, except for in the bed. And cleaning wasn't on her mind when Enjolras' naked body was pressed against hers.

Gabrielle began putting the books away first, since there was actually space for them on the shelves, and the dirty clothes she piled in a corner. She would pay Musichetta to wash them tomorrow. The papers were another story, however; they were from Monsieur Durand's law office and she didn't want to move them, lest Enjolras not be able to find something he needed. But she also didn't want to leave them laying around in random places, either.

She was saved from her dilemma by Enjolras walking through the door. He stopped when he saw the mess and her standing in the middle of it.

"Antoine, we really have a problem," she said in greeting, her hands on her hips.

He shut the door behind him and rubbed the back of his neck, looking especially handsome in his navy coat, Gabrielle thought.

He winced, but his lip curled up as he looked at her. "Yes, I see that. This place is a bit of a mess, isn't it?"

She nodded and gestured to the papers. "There's just nowhere to put them. I don't know what you need and what you don't. And I haven't even touched the bedroom. You've only been working for a few weeks and it already looks like you brought the entire law office home with you."

"Well, I have a solution."

"What?" she asked curiously.

Enjolras hesitated a moment, then said slowly, "I bought a house today...should I have asked you first?"

Gabrielle's eyes widened, and she would have laughed at his words if she wasn't so astonished. "You bought a _house?"_

"Yes. Something else, too, not nearly as extravagant, but...are you mad?"

"Of course not, it's your money..."

"Ours," he interrupted. "It's ours, and I should have asked. I apologize."

Gabrielle smiled and rolled her eyes. "Alright, ours. And I accept your apology." She walked over to him, her eyes lighting up. "Now where is this house?"

"It was Cosette's, actually. I had lunch with Marius and Joly today. When I mentioned we had no space left here, Marius mentioned that Cosette's father had left him their house on the _Rue Plumet._ Cosette doesn't want to live there. It's small, as houses go, but it's bigger than what we have. And I didn't really think, I just bought it before Marius changed his mind."

"Does Cosette know? She agreed?"

"Of course, Marius wouldn't have done it without her blessing."

Gabrielle clapped her hands delightedly. "Oh! I've never lived in a house before!" she exclaimed, and Enjolras was startled.

"What?"

"I've never had a house of my own! Alexandre and I always lived in tiny little apartments, and then I shared a room at school with five other horrible girls, and then I lived _in_ the de Sauveterre's house, but it wasn't really mine, and now I'm here with you and it's never really felt like mine, either..."

Enjolras was taken aback; where he lived was of little consequence to him, but he had always had a place he considered home and something that was his. He hadn't realized what it would mean to Gabrielle, who had never had anything.

"I didn't realize you would care so much."

"Oh, I do care. I know you didn't do it to make me happy, but thank you!" She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "You are quite wonderful, you know, even when it's a complete accident."

"It feels nice to make you happy," he admitted. "And I do have something else for you..."

"What? I don't think you can possibly do better than a _house_," she teased. "Shouldn't you save this surprise for some time when I'm terribly mad at you?"

"Do you plan to get terribly mad at me?"

Gabrielle laughed and shook her head. "I have no plans as of yet, no." Gabrielle stepped back as she noticed the thin box he held in his hand and looked at it curiously.

Enjolras cleared his throat, suddenly looking nervous. "I saw this today in a window and I thought...I mean, it matched the description you gave once, of the fan that you saw. Your brother's? I thought I should get it for you, just in case."

Her face paled and became apprehensive as Gabrielle stared at him uncomprehendingly for a minute. "What?"

He handed her the box and she opened it with shaking fingers, slipping the fan out and into her hands.

She unfurled it and her mouth fell open. Orpheus and his water nymphs, just like she had seen in the window of her brother's desolate and closed shop days after his death on the barricade. The colors shone brightly and her brother's brush strokes looked beautiful up close. Her fingers played over the silk as she studied it and spotted Feuilly's miniscule signature. Gabrielle's eyes welled up with tears, her vision blurring the tiny writing.

"How...how did you...Antoine, I..." Gabrielle's breath caught in her chest and she covered her mouth, trying not to cry. "I can't believe you found it! _How _did you find it, out of all the fans in Paris?"

"It really is the one you saw?" he asked unsurely.

"Yes. _Yes._ Oh, Antoine, this is the nicest thing anyone has ever given me." She couldn't hold back her tears anymore and they burst forth in loud, shoulder shaking sobs. Gabrielle buried her face in her hands, embarrassed at her outburst of emotion, but soon felt Enjolras' tentative touch on her shoulder. She looked up at him and smiled sheepishly through her tears, trying to get ahold of herself. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying...I'm so _happy_, I promise. Thank you."

Enjolras' usually stern expression softened as he looked at her. "You have nothing to thank me for."

"Of course I do. I have everything to thank you for." Gabrielle studied the fan for several more minutes until her tears subsided. "I will treasure this for the rest of my life," she whispered. "Nothing in the world means more to me."

Enjolras leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead, letting them linger there longer than usual. When he pulled away, Gabrielle noticed his eyes were bright with his own unspoken emotions, and she was overwhelmed with everything she felt for him.

She gently folded the fan and laid it on the desk, then wrapped her arms around Enjolras' neck again, laying her head on his chest. It felt so right to be near him, like she belonged next to him. His arms slowly went around her waist and held her firmly.

"I told you about that fan so long ago and you remembered. To even notice it, I can't...it just means so much to me to have something of my brother's. God!" She laughed and stood on her toes to kiss his rough, unshaven cheek. "You beautiful, wonderful, thoughtful, ridiculous man."

Enjolras pulled back a little bit to look at her. "I hoped it would make you happy."

He leaned down and kissed her gently, a contrasting touch to the ones they shared in the dark that were full of passion and desire. This kiss felt different: sweet and slow and gentle, restrained and contented. They kissed for several minutes, and Gabrielle could have cried again at how much love she felt, love she never even knew she was capable of. It was one of the most glorious feelings she had ever experienced, and she desperately hoped he felt the same.

It almost seemed like he did, after such amazing things he had done for her, but he was such a strange man, so hard to really read and understand, and so ever changing with his emotions. Gabrielle thought, though, that he was capable of loving her at least a _little. _She didn't need to be the absolute center of his world, as Cosette was to Marius.

Eventually, Enjolras pulled away, keeping his hand on the side of her neck, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. He looked calm, his eyes still and focused on her instead of his usual way of talking to her about one thing and thinking about something else at the same time. "So...when would you like to move into your new house?"

Gabrielle grinned. "_Our_ new house, remember? And as soon as we can, lest we can't even find each other under the mess we have here."

He smiled, a rare smile that actually showed his teeth, and made Gabrielle's heart flutter in her chest. "I wouldn't want that to happen. I'll make arrangements for the next few days. I think we'll have to hire a maid, too."

"A _maid? _ Just for the two of us?"

He looked pointedly around the room. "Look what happened with 'just the two of us.' We might destroy the place before we even get to enjoy it."

"And I do intend to _enjoy _it," she whispered, and slipped her hands underneath his coat, sliding it off his shoulders. "Just as I intend to enjoy you right now."

"I have absolutely no objections to that plan."

It seemed Gabrielle's happiness had seeped into Enjolras; he was acting sillier than she had ever seen him, she thought, as he scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom. She giggled the whole way.

* * *

In a few days, Enjolras and Gabrielle had moved into the little house on the _Rue Plumet_, and Gabrielle thought she had never seen a more charming place in her life. Ivy climbed the one story walls, and it would be shaded in the summer heat by the little trees that surrounded the house. There were three bedrooms, a library, and a parlour – more room than Gabrielle had ever had in her life. There was also a garden that Gabrielle had a feeling she wouldn't be very good at tending. The kitchen was in the back, and thanks to Genevieve Durand's help, they hired a woman named Sophie to come and clean daily. She wouldn't live with them, though, since Gabrielle had pointed out to Enjolras that having a stranger in their midst might not let them be nearly as fun or creative with all of this new room that they had.

Enjolras had taken the hint, since Gabrielle had just coaxed him out of his pants in the library, in broad daylight. They made love in front of the fire on the floor, and Gabrielle had him dressed again and ready to go back to work by the time his lunch break was over.

Genevieve Durand arrived just as Enjolras was leaving, and the two women were currently unpacking the boxes and boxes of books that had come from the apartment.

"I can't believe this is really ours," Gabrielle said as she looked around the warm room. A bright rug was on the floor, and _two _desks, one for him and one for her, each sat in opposite corners. A comfortable sofa and armchair were practically begging her to grab a book, settle down, and read for hours. "It was wonderful of Cosette and Marius to let us buy it."

"It is perfect for a young couple like yourselves, just starting out," Genevieve agreed. "Not too big, but certainly enough space. And it's quite charming. Very peaceful."

"Oh, it is, isn't it? I just love it." Gabrielle grinned as she put more books away. "And Sophie is so sweet, thank you for helping us find her. She'll be such a wonderful help to me."

"I'm glad I could help."

The two worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, and then Genevieve said curiously, "Now when do you two plan on filling those extra bedrooms with children? Don't think I don't know what you were doing before I arrived. I _did _have to stand in the yard for several minutes..." She glared at Gabrielle playfully.

Gabrielle dropped the book she was holding and blushed as she bent to retrieve it, feeling mortified. "I...goodness, Genevieve, I'm sorry. I've never been so embarrassed in my life."

Genevieve laughed uproariously and patted her arm. "Don't think a thing of it, Gabrielle, it's really quite nice to see. It takes me back to the first few months of my own marriage, when everything was so new and wonderful. Enjoy this time with him."

"I am," Gabrielle grinned. "Very much."

"Now, about those children..."

Gabrielle shook her head firmly. "We both agreed we don't want children. We're being...well, we're being very careful, you see. Perhaps if it were to happen in a few _years _we might feel differently, but I can't even imagine having a child right now. And Antoine would _hate _it," she said firmly. "He absolutely doesn't want a child."

Genevieve stopped and looked at Gabrielle. "You both really feel so strongly against it? That surprises me. Usually young couples can't wait to start a family."

"We're not like most couples," Gabrielle mumbled. "It's probably just not be in the stars. It's really wonderful with just the two of us. I have no complaints." She shrugged and smiled, wishing Genevieve would drop the subject. Even though she spoke the truth, and had no problem with the fact that Enjolras didn't want children, Genevieve's questions almost made her feel inferior, like they weren't normal if they didn't want to have a family.

"Well, to each his own. I was a few years older than you when I had George," Genevieve said. "You have a lot of time left to change your minds, should you wish."

Gabrielle was surprised. "Genevieve, I didn't know you have a son!"

Genevieve smiled sadly and nodded. "I do, but he lives in England. He is grown with a family of his own now, and we rarely see him."

"Oh." Gabrielle wondered again how old Genevieve was. She didn't seem old enough to be a grandmother.

"Gabrielle, have you noticed that it is mostly children who come to the church to eat and sleep each evening?" Genevieve suddenly asked.

"What? Oh, yes, I have. I suppose it isn't really that surprising. Most of them are probably orphans."

"Yes, that's what I think. Which made me wonder...I know they don't have a very good reputation, but, what if we were to try and start an orphanage? Where the children could live and be educated?"

Gabrielle paused, balancing several books in her arms. "An orphanage? I don't know if the children would even want it. Many of them like their freedom, they are so used to it. As much as they hate the hunger, the streets are all they know. And they do as they please all day long, with no restrictions or rules."

"Yes, but I have a feeling many young mothers would leave their children with us, ones who are young enough to have not really been on the streets yet. We cannot save everyone, but perhaps we could save a few? If they come to us young enough, they need never know what it is like to live on the streets at all."

Gabrielle thought about the idea silently for a while. "It would cost an incredible amount of money, Genevieve," she pointed out.

"Yes, it would. But I'm working on that. If the money wasn't an issue, do you think you would want to teach there?"

"Teach?" Gabrielle sat down at her desk, resting her chin in her hand. "I don't know. I didn't mind teaching when I was a governess. But it seems like it would be quite an undertaking. Is it really even possible?"

"You never know what's possible if you don't try," Genevieve said firmly.

Gabrielle smiled, touched by Genevieve's enthusiasm. She often reminded her of Enjolras. "That is true. Well, I suppose it is something at least worth thinking about and trying to plan. Have you asked anyone else what they think?"

"Oh, my husband knows. He likes the idea himself, and thinks it could work. He's a bit of an optimist, that one. He would encourage me to fly to the moon if I expressed an interest." Genevieve smiled fondly as she talked of her husband, then sobered and pulled up a chair near Gabrielle. "He is giving Enjolras a very big case this week, you know."

"Is he? Antoine hasn't mentioned it..."

"He hasn't given it to him yet. He probably will this afternoon. He very much trusts your husband's judgment, and says he has a sharp mind."

"That's wonderful, I'm sure Antoine will be pleased to be given such a responsibility. And I'm sure he won't let Monsieur Durand down."

"Do you two have any plans for Christmas? It will be upon us in only a few weeks." Genevieve abruptly changed the subject.

"Oh...well, I haven't mentioned it to Antoine, but now that we're living here, I was thinking of maybe asking his mother to come visit."

"Oh, that will be nice. And fun for you." Genevieve's eyes twinkled in mirth and there was a false note to her words. "Are you sure you're ready to meet your mother-in-law? Mothers can be awfully protective of their sons..."

Gabrielle laughed. "Do you speak from experience?"

"Oh, yes, all too well. My mother-in-law was an absolute _witch_, God rest her soul." Genevieve rolled her eyes and stood, finishing off the books. "She made my life a living hell for the first few years of my marriage. And I'm sure I wasn't much better to poor George's wife at first."

"Well, if Antoine's mother is that bad, at least her visit would only be for a few weeks."

"Let's hope she doesn't like you enough to want to stay permanently."

* * *

When Enjolras got home that evening, he found the library organized and unpacked.

"Look! There's space for every single book _on an actual shelf._ Isn't that incredible? We can even get more!" Gabrielle exclaimed as she pointed to an empty shelf in the corner.

Enjolras grinned at how child-like her exuberance was. "I think there's enough books for now. Lets not outgrow this space when we've just settled into it."

Gabrielle helped him out of his coat and then stood looking at him expectantly. "Well?" she finally asked. "Did anything interesting happen at work this afternoon?"

Enjolras sat in the comfortable armchair by the window and pulled Gabrielle into his lap. "Not as interesting as what happened here over lunch."

Gabrielle swatted his arm playfully. "Out with it. Did Monsieur Durand give you a case?"

"He did."

"And?"

"It's rather intimidating. And important. The story was in the papers a few months ago."

"Can you tell me about it?"

Enjolras studied her, then nodded. "I can share a little bit, I suppose. I know you won't tell anyone. I'm defending a man for murder. While he did kill someone, I don't blame him for doing it. And it's a sick injustice, what's happened to him."

"What did happen?" Gabrielle asked, twisting one of Enjolras' curls around her finger.

"He came home from work one evening to find a French army officer brutally assaulting his wife. Sexually assaulting her. So he hit the man over the head, repeatedly, with a club. He says he didn't mean to kill him, just stop him, but he died, anyway. He and his wife were caught trying to dispose of the body. His wife died in prison not long ago, and he is still there, awaiting trial."

Gabrielle cringed. "That's awful. Surely it's easy to see that he was just protecting his wife? How horrible to have to go through all of that around this time of year. Or to have to go through it at all."

Enjolras looked puzzled and Gabrielle reminded him gently, "Christmas? You know, that rather festive holiday that's happening in about two weeks..."

"Is it really almost Christmas?" Enjolras shook his head. "It seems like spring just arrived yesterday." His eyes clouded as he remembered the events of the previous spring, and Gabrielle watched his face silently.

Finally, she said quietly, "We've been married four months, you know."

"Mmm." He rested his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes.

"And I still haven't met your mother."

He didn't respond.

"Can we invite her here for Christmas?"

Enjolras opened his eyes and looked at her. "You want to meet my mother?" He looked like he didn't like the idea at all.

"Well, yes. It's _Christmas_. You're her only child and your father isn't there with her anymore, either. Don't you think she would enjoy seeing you?"

He frowned. "I don't know."

Gabrielle shrugged and looked away. "If you're uncomfortable with her meeting me, I understand. I know it's probably awkward for you, with our particular circumstances. And I know she thinks that you're madly in love with me, and it would be strange to try and keep up a pretense like that, or for someone to understand what is actually going on between us."

"You're rambling again," he replied. "And it isn't anything like that at all," Enjolras said firmly. "Please don't think I'm embarrassed by you, Gabrielle. Nothing could be further from the truth. And it wouldn't...well, it wouldn't be difficult to 'pretend' I care for you, because I do." He looked uncomfortable with the admission, but Gabrielle was pleased he had said it nevertheless, although he most certainly hadn't used the word 'love.'

"What is it then? It seems odd to me that you wouldn't want to see your mother, especially since you've told me before you were quite close to her."

"I don't know. It would be strange no matter _who _I married. I just don't know how she'll react or treat you. Or how she'll treat me, since it's been so long. And she doesn't know...well, she doesn't know about the barricade or the _Les Amis_ or _any _of that. I never told her, because I didn't want her to worry or constantly warn me off of it."

"Oh. Well, I can certainly understand your reluctance then, but there's still no need to tell her if you don't want to. It is over, mostly," she reminded him gently. "And maybe it's time for a fresh start with her? Just like we have one ourselves."

"Is that what we have?" he reflected. "Sometimes I still feel rather haunted."

"I know you do. And maybe it doesn't mean the same to you as it does to me, coming from such different places, but...you're never going to be alone now. Whether you only need me as a friend or..." she blushed and whispered, "Or as a lover. Whatever you need, I will never go away."

Enjolras gazed at her, his eyes dark. "It does mean something, Gabrielle. And you know I will never go away, either." She could tell it was hard for him to say, and she appreciated both the sentiment and the effort it took.

"I know. So...does this mean we can invite your mother?"

Enjolras sighed and leaned his head against the back of the chair. "Are you absolutely sure you want to entertain my mother for the holiday? I may be working a lot, especially with this case now that Durand has entrusted me with it. And you're quite busy yourself."

"I am sure. Please?" She kissed him gently, nipping at his bottom lip with her teeth.

"You win," he mumbled against her lips. "How do you manage to keep getting your way?"

She smiled and kissed him again. "Because you're quite intelligent, and realize that it will make your life infinitely easier," she teased. Gabrielle began to get up, but Enjolras grabbed her wrist and tugged her back down to his lap.

"What, you get what you want and then you just leave?" he said playfully, moving his lips to her neck. "That doesn't seem fair."

Gabrielle began to unbutton his waistcoat, letting out a soft sigh as she felt a the pressure of his lips just below her ear. "You're going to leave a mark there," she chastised as he sucked and nipped at her skin.

"I want to." His voice was low and rough and Gabrielle shuddered a bit. He had been rather passive lately, letting Gabrielle take the lead, but she had a feeling tonight would be different.

And she didn't mind at all.

* * *

**I should probably wait a bit longer to update, but oh well.**

**This chapter was kind of full of ridiculous fluff, but it did set up several things that will come back into play in coming chapters, so it wasn't totally pointless. Hope everyone enjoyed! I kind of like writing conversations between E/G, especially as they're becoming more comfortable with each other.**

**Thank you for the reviews and for the suggestions on things you'd like to see. And for the person who said I should try and get this published, you are TOO sweet (and slightly delusional! lol) You are all AWESOME, and I wish my "guest" reviewers had accounts so I could thank you in PMs and keep our conversations going. Keep the reviews and suggestions coming! **

**And Happy St. Patty's Day!**


	17. Chapter XVII

Chapter XVII

Three days before Christmas, Gabrielle found herself entertaining her mother-in-law alone as Enjolras worked furiously on his case. He had been stuck in the office incessantly for the last two weeks and said he was making progress in the defense of his client. He was very secretive about it all, however, and never said much. Gabrielle was glad she had a distraction in trying to make a good impression on his mother rather than worry about him over-working himself. He constantly looked exhausted.

Madame Enjolras, or Marie as she insisted Gabrielle call her, had arrived the day before and Gabrielle was desperate to try and make the woman like her. Usually, Gabrielle didn't care what anyone thought – her years at school had given her a thick skin – but this seemed important, no matter what Enjolras said.

Madame Enjolras was quiet, but observant, a trait Gabrielle quickly recognized since she saw it so often in her husband. Her eyes flickered over everything, from Enjolras' hand resting on Gabrielle's waist as they were introduced to the way his gaze lingered on her face before leaving for work in the morning. Gabrielle wondered what exactly Marie was looking for, but suspected that the intelligent older woman hadn't quite believed all of her son's written declarations of love for his new wife. It was uncharacteristic of him, and Gabrielle had warned him of that from the start.

Gabrielle and Marie had just eaten lunch and were now relaxing in the library before a warm fire. Even though Marie had been nothing but kind and gracious, she still made Gabrielle rather nervous. She was an intimidating woman - tall, confident, and beautiful. Her son had gotten his blue eyes and curls from his mother, as well as the ability to seemingly look straight into your soul. Marie Enjolras' gaze was direct and unwavering, no matter what they were talking about, and Gabrielle found it a bit unnerving, especially since she knew Marie was there to judge whether or not she was a fit companion for her son.

It had begun to snow a few hours before and while Gabrielle found it beautiful, she expressed her sadness at how cold it would be for so many with no shelter that night.

"Antoine mentioned your charity work in a letter, Gabrielle. He is rather impressed with it, and I am intrigued, as well. May I go with you this evening and help? I'm willing to do whatever you need."

"Of course! I'm afraid it won't be very fun to get there in this snow, but I would love for you to be there, Marie. Genevieve Durand, who is the wife of the lawyer Antoine works for, is really the one behind it all. She's now talking of starting an orphanage. I don't know how we could possibly raise enough money to do something like that, or do it well, but she's confident it can be done. She wants me to teach there, but I don't really know if that's a good idea..." Gabrielle blushed when she realized she was rambling, her nervous habit appearing in full force.

Marie's deep blue eyes studied Gabrielle. "How old are you, my dear?" she asked suddenly. "You seem quite young. You are younger than my son, are you not?"

"I just turned nineteen, Madame; I am not _that_ young to be married." Gabrielle straightened unconsciously in an attempt to make herself taller.

"No, I suppose not. I was married at your age. You do look young, though, Gabrielle, except for your eyes. They seem older, much like my son's, like you have seen and experienced too much in your young life. And his look much older than the last time I saw him." Marie leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand and coming to her point. "I suppose what he has seen since he left home has put an indelible mark on his soul."

"Yes..." Gabrielle glanced away uncomfortably. She knew Enjolras hadn't told his mother of his role in the barricade, and she wondered how much Marie already knew instinctively. She was obviously fishing for information. "Antoine is the most serious person I've ever known, though, naturally so. I don't think I saw him smile for months when we first met."

"He was always that way, even as a boy. He would rather sit with his nose stuck in a book or discuss philosophy with his father's friends than run around outside, playing games and rough-housing with the other boys his age. He was too smart for his own good, and his father encouraged it. Not that I minded."

Gabrielle smiled and said reassuringly, "Well, he turned out just fine. In fact, I think he's the most amazing man in the world."

Marie smiled slowly. "When did you meet him, Gabrielle? He never mentioned you in his letters in _all_ of the years he has been living in Paris, and then, seemingly out of the blue, you were married."

"I know – our wedding _was_ quite sudden, even for us. We decided there was no sense in waiting once we became engaged." Gabrielle smiled nervously, afraid to say something she would have trouble explaining without giving away her husband's secrets. She realized she was wringing her hands and stopped. "I met Antoine almost two years ago, though, so he was no stranger to me. He was a friend of my brother's."

"_Was _a friend?"

"Oh...well. My brother recently passed away." _Please don't ask questions, _Gabrielle thought.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know, dear. Antoine never mentioned that you had a brother...when did it happen?" Gabrielle could tell the wheels were turning in Marie's head. She suspected something, and was trying to put two and two together.

"In early June," Gabrielle said cautiously.

Marie stared at Gabrielle a moment before sighing in understanding. She turned to the window and said quietly, her voice strained, "Would that be around the same time that Julien Combeferre died, as well?"

Gabrielle winced and wondered how Marie knew about Combeferre at all. "Yes, it would. How did you know Monsieur Combeferre, Marie?"

"His mother wrote to me after it happened. Antoine and Julien were childhood friends, did you know that?" Marie's eyes were sad as she turned back to Gabrielle. "Were they involved in the uprising? Your brother and Julien? The barricades we all heard about?"

Gabrielle hesitated, trying to think of a way to get out of answering these questions. Other than lying, which she wasn't willing to do, she didn't think she could.

"Yes," Gabrielle admitted, her head spinning a bit. She didn't know that Enjolras and Combeferre had known each other since childhood. Her brother had never mentioned it that she could remember. That made Enjolras' loss seem even worse, somehow.

"And my son? He was there, too?"

"I can't really say, Madame. I don't think that it's my place..." Gabrielle didn't want to tell secrets that were not hers to share, and she would never betray Enjolras' trust.

"You're his wife, Gabrielle. It is your place. Was he involved in the uprising?"

Gabrielle was silent and looked at the rug uncomfortably, refusing to say anything more.

"He was. Your silence is all the confirmation I need. Why didn't he tell me?" Marie's voice was calm and controlled, and Gabrielle wondered what was in her head. Her face was unreadable, though she had grown quite pale.

"He didn't want to worry you, Marie. And it...it was so hard for him. He didn't just lose Combeferre and my brother, but almost all of his other friends. They were all incredibly close and he felt such guilt for so long. He still does." Gabrielle desperately wanted to change the subject, but didn't know how.

"Was Antoine hurt?" Marie's voice wavered, and Gabrielle could see the emotion she felt at the thought of her son in danger.

Gabrielle nodded slowly. "Yes, but...Marie, I really can't say any more. You need to ask him these questions yourself."

"Do you love him, Gabrielle?"

"I do," Gabrielle said without hesitation. "I love him with everything I am." She held Marie's gaze confidently, and realized it was the first time she had ever admitted her feelings aloud to anyone in such a candid way.

Marie finally nodded her approval, and abruptly changed the subject to lighter things for the rest of the afternoon. The two women made their way through the snow to the church in the early evening, and Marie Enjolras worked as hard as Gabrielle. She seemed to thoroughly enjoy making herself useful. When they arrived home later, Enjolras was still absent, however, and Gabrielle was disappointed that he wasn't making more of an effort to spend time with his mother. It had been years since he'd seen her and she thought he could at least manage to give her a few days. And after their conversation earlier, she knew his mother had much to speak with him about.

Marie bid Gabrielle good night and retreated to her room, and Gabrielle did the same soon after when she grew tired of waiting for Enjolras to get home. She had just climbed into bed, shivering from the cold, when she heard the front door open. He soon entered the bedroom, rubbing his hands together in an effort to get them warm. He sat on the edge of the bed and Gabrielle reached out to touch his back.

"You're home late. Your mother and I missed you today."

He glanced over at her, dark circles under his eyes, and smiled apologetically. "I'm so sorry, Gabrielle. I swear that I'm staying home tomorrow and Christmas day. I won't even think of work." He leaned over and kissed her quickly.

"Good. Your mother wants to spend time with you, you know."

He didn't respond, but finished undressing and climbed under the covers to escape the frigid air. Gabrielle yelped when she felt his cold hands slip under her nightgown and caress her stomach. "You're freezing!" She squirmed and he chuckled, kissing her nose.

"But look, I'm already getting warm." His hands moved to her breasts and Gabrielle shivered, this time not from the cold.

"Antoine," she scolded, "Your mother is in the next room. We really shouldn't. What if she heard? It would be mortifying..."

"We can be quiet," he whispered, and moved one hand to her leg, lifting it over his hips. She could feel his arousal already pressing against her thigh. "We haven't been together in days. I miss you, Gabrielle." He pushed her nightgown up and over her head, kissing along her collarbone and neck.

Gabrielle didn't protest anymore, and let him gently tease and coax her body into submission. He took his time, and when they were both eventually spent, he kept his arms around her, still trailing kisses along her neck and shoulders.

Gabrielle was almost asleep when she remembered the conversation she and Marie had had earlier. It seemed as good a time as any to warn Enjolras about the uncomfortable and emotional questions that would soon be coming his way.

"Antoine? I did something today you may not like."

He looked at her questioningly.

"Your mother was asking questions about us and what you've been doing, and...and I couldn't lie. She asked outright about the barricade, so she must have suspected for a while. She knows about what happened and that you were hurt. I didn't tell her anything else, though." Gabrielle bit her lip, afraid he would be angry.

Enjolras only sighed and nodded. "It's fine. I knew she would find out, eventually. I just hoped she would ask me and leave you alone. I'm sorry if you felt uncomfortable. I should have told her myself."

Gabrielle frowned. "_You're_ apologizing? I'm the one who told something I knew you wanted to keep secret. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I shouldn't have put you in that position. I promise I will talk to her about it tomorrow."

He sounded anxious already, and Gabrielle reached out to run her hands through his hair, a gesture she had noticed he found soothing. She tangled her fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck and said quietly, "I just want you to be happy, Antoine. I hate thinking that you're not."

He smiled thoughtfully. "Why would you think I'm not? I am happy, Gabrielle. Obviously, there are things I would change. Many things. But I am as happy as I can be, under the circumstances."

"I didn't know that you and Combeferre had known each other since childhood," she said abruptly. "Your mother has known all along about his death, Antoine. His mother wrote to her."

Enjolras met her eyes, his jaw tightening. He didn't speak.

"I knew you were closest to him, out of everyone. I just didn't know you had known him so long..." Gabrielle was embarrassed to find her throat tightening, tears close to the surface.

"They were all my friends; best friends. But he was more like my brother," Enjolras said, gritting his teeth. "Combeferre always kept me in line."

Gabrielle managed a smile, quickly wiping away a tear as it trickled down her cheek.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, surprised.

She shook her head and shrugged. "I don't know. It just...it's so sad. It's just been a strange day, knowing your mother has been worrying and wondering all these months, but respected you enough to not ask questions. And..." Gabrielle didn't know how to tell him how much his pain affected her. She would do anything to take it away from him, but it seemed so foolish to say so aloud.

"Does it make you miss your brother?" Enjolras kissed her forehead tenderly.

"Well, yes. I miss him every minute of every day. I always wonder what he would say if he were here, or what advice he would give me. But...Antoine, I hurt for _you_. I wish I could take your pain away, or take it all upon myself."

Enjolras studied her thoughtfully. She could tell he didn't know what to say.

Gabrielle didn't know why it was suddenly important for her to know or where the question had come from, but unexpectedly the words were on her tongue. "Would you change _us_, Antoine? If you could go back, and make your revolution succeed and all of your friends live? France would become a nation of equality and all of the ideals you love...but would I still be there with you, even under those circumstances?"

"Yes." He didn't even hesitate, meeting her gaze squarely. "No matter how this started between us, Gabrielle, I can't imagine any life without you anymore." He looked a bit astonished at his admission.

"Really?" Gabrielle caressed his jaw and he turned his head to kiss her palm.

"Yes, really." Enjolras kissed her, and Gabrielle felt it from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. He may not have said the words, but every second made her feel more sure.

He loved her.

* * *

The next morning, Enjolras awoke before Gabrielle and gently scooted to the edge of the bed, trying not to wake her. Just because he usually rose with the sun didn't mean she needed to, especially after the late night they had had. He reached out and grabbed his watch, swearing when he saw the time – half past eight. He couldn't even remember the last time he had slept so late.

He jumped when he felt Gabrielle's hand on his arm.

"Don't get up yet," she mumbled. "Didn't we just fall asleep?"

"Well, yes. But it's already past eight o'clock." Despite his protests, he settled back down under the blankets and closed his eyes, Gabrielle's head resting on his arm.

"It doesn't matter. Your mother didn't rise until nine yesterday."

"Or we could do something besides sleep..." Enjolras ran his hand over her stomach suggestively.

Gabrielle opened her eyes and laughed, looking at him in disbelief. "Really?! Aren't you tired yet?"

"Exhausted. But I like being with you more than I like sleep." He grinned and pulled the covers over his head, lowering his mouth to her breast. Enjolras knew he had completely lost his head, and acted more like a ridiculous school-boy when he was around Gabrielle than a grown man, but the last few days he had spent away from her had made him even crazier now that he was back in her arms. He couldn't get enough of her.

She had just started making those soft, satisfying, and extremely attractive sounds from low in her throat when there was a knock on the door. Enjolras groaned and emerged from the covers, glaring at the source of the offensive sound. He didn't say anything, hoping his mother would go away if they didn't respond.

Instead, she took it upon herself to open the door a few inches and her voice floated into the room.

"I know you two are awake. I can hear you, you know."

Enjolras glanced at Gabrielle, who was trying very hard not to laugh, though she looked horrified. He pulled the blankets up higher to make sure she was appropriately covered should his mother decide to completely invade their privacy.

"Good morning to you, too, Maman," he grumbled.

"I want to speak with you, Antoine, before you run off to work again. Please?" His mother's voice was softer and more apologetic and he immediately felt guilty for neglecting her in favor of his own pleasurable pursuits with Gabrielle.

"I'm not going to work today, Maman, you'll have me all to yourself. I promise I will be right out."

"Alright. And good morning, Gabrielle, dear."

"Good morning, Marie," Gabrielle replied laughingly as the door shut with a click.

Enjolras sighed, and covered Gabrielle's hands with his as he felt her arms snake around his waist from behind. She kissed his neck and laid her head on his shoulder.

"I guess that's the end of our fun," she said. "You should go bathe and join your mother. I'll give you two some time alone this morning."

"Alright." He turned and kissed her once more before slipping out from beneath the covers. Enjolras bathed and left Gabrielle to do the same before joining his mother in the kitchen, where she had taken it upon herself to make breakfast.

"I'm surprised you aren't rising with the sun anymore. You always got up before the chickens." His mother smirked at him and said knowingly, "Or maybe it's just the late night that you had with your wife?"

Enjolras blushed furiously, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Maman! That is none of your business!"

Marie laughed and patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Do not be embarrassed, Antoine. I'm reassured by it. I have to admit that I didn't know _what _I would find in coming here, or what unknown reasons you had for marrying the girl. But she obviously makes you very happy. I suppose all of your declarations of love in your letters were true?"

Enjolras squirmed as he sat, letting his mother pour him a cup of tea. "Yes..." he said uncertainly. "I suppose. I care for her a great deal."

"Care for her? You are crazy about her, you can't fool me. The way you look at her, Antoine, like she makes the sun rise every day? I can see it. Don't you remember Marguerite St. Onge? She chased you mercilessly when you were no more than sixteen and you never even gave her a second glance, as attractive as she was. I have never seen you in love before, my son, and it is quite interesting."

Enjolras didn't respond. This topic was making him distinctly uncomfortable.

"But I do think you are working too hard. Gabrielle said she has barely seen you in the last two weeks."

Ah, work. That he could discuss. "Well, I need to prove myself, Maman. This case I've been given is important; a man's life hangs in the balance, and his wife has already lost hers. I want to make sure I am doing everything I can to prove his innocence."

Marie smiled and took his hand. "I see you are still fighting to help those who need it most. I hope that never changes."

Enjolras smiled and squeezed her hand. "I don't think it will, Maman. In fact, some friends and I are about to publish a newspaper. Hopefully it will spread the word about all of these social injustices we see every day, and educate those who don't know about the virtues of a Republican state. It could help to bring about change if more people become devoted to the cause."

Marie smiled sadly. "I'm glad your defeat in June has not made you give up."

Enjolras winced and drew his hand away. "Gabrielle said she told you."

"She didn't say much," Marie admitted. "She was very loyal. Everything she said I practically had to drag out of her. I wish you would tell me everything, Antoine. You know I will not judge you. I don't understand why you haven't shared it with me, considering you know I share your hopes and dreams, as did your father. Surely you aren't afraid of being judged?"

"No," he whispered. "I just don't want you worrying."

"Antoine. Maybe when you become a father someday you will understand," Marie explained patiently. "No matter what you say, good or bad; whether you tell me everything or tell me nothing, I will always worry about you. It is what parents do over their children, whether they are mere hours old, a rambunctious teenager, or a grown man of twenty-three years."

"That sounds horrible."

Marie laughed. "It is the way of the world. And everything that comes with being a parent is worth the worrying. Now..." His mother narrowed her eyes. "When _do _you plan on becoming a father?"

Enjolras rolled his eyes and sipped his tea. "Never, if I can help it."

Marie glared at him. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to, Maman. I don't want a child. I don't want the responsibility of raising another human being, I don't want the worry, I don't want...any of it. And I don't want to bring another person into a world such as this. What would happen if I were to die? Or Gabrielle? Or both of us? There's too much uncertainty."

Marie shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "I am not going to try and convince you. Gabrielle is very young, anyway, so you both have plenty of time to change your minds. But...back to what happened in June. How bad was it, Antoine?"

Enjolras looked down at the table instead of at his mother. He knew she would be able to see it in his eyes, and he didn't want her to know how much it still affected him, how his dreams were still haunted by the faces of his dead friends and the fallen soldiers, how sometimes every loud bang made him jump, thinking it was the sound of gunfire. Gabrielle was the only one who knew, and even she didn't know the half of it. He supposed only Marius and Joly could really understand the terror that sometimes overcame him. Only someone who was there could know.

"Please tell me," Marie pleaded. "Or tell me as much as you can."

Enjolras began to talk slowly, starting at the very beginning with the formation of the _Les Amis._ His mother listened, making soft sounds of understanding every once in a while. Only when he got to the very end, speaking of the way the soldiers had looked before firing at him and Grantaire, did she look away and hold up her hand for him to stop. He had said more than he'd intended and frightened her.

"You could have died," his mother said in horror. "And I never would have known! I wouldn't know where you were, or where your final resting place was, just as Julien's mother doesn't know. Oh, Antoine, how could you do that to me?"

"I didn't die, Maman, I made it through. There were times I wished I didn't, and I still feel guilt that I'm alive and they are not." Enjolras moved his chair closer to his mother to wrap his arms around her shoulders comfortingly. "I'm fine, Maman. I'm alive...thanks to Gabrielle."

Marie raised her eyebrows and cupped his face, waiting for him to go on, so he told the story of how Gabrielle had found him at the barricade, leaving behind her own brother's body to save his life, and the way she had nursed him back to health with patience and kindness.

"And that is how you fell in love with her? And why you married so quickly?"

"Yes..." Enjolras supposed that was as good a story as any. As honest as he had been, he still didn't want his mother to know that he had married Gabrielle as basically a business arrangement. And it had turned out so well, who cares how it had begun?

Gabrielle chose that moment to enter the kitchen, but stopped when she saw the look on Marie's face. "I'm sorry...do you need more time alone?"

"No!" Marie quickly rose and embraced Gabrielle, kissing her cheek. "Antoine has just told me everything, including how you saved him. Oh, Gabrielle, I can never thank you enough for what you did."

Gabrielle looked at Enjolras over Marie's shoulder, her eyes showing surprise. He smiled and shrugged.

"It was nothing, Marie..." she said quietly.

Marie pulled away and looked at her. "You are my daughter now, Gabrielle. And you make my son very happy. Please, call me Maman," she said sincerely.

Enjolras saw a million emotions flicker over Gabrielle's face as she slowly nodded. "Of course." They were interrupted by a soft knock on the front door and Enjolras rose.

"Are we expecting anyone today?"

"Not that I know of." Gabrielle and Marie followed him through the house, Marie's arm around Gabrielle's waist.

Enjolras opened the door to find Marius and Cosette on the other side, shivering in the snow, but absolutely beaming.

"Merry Christmas!" The friends greeted each other and Enjolras immediately built up the fire in the parlour to help Marius and Cosette warm up. They were introduced to his mother and all settled down to visit.

"I had no idea you were coming today," Gabrielle said, squeezing Cosette's hand. "It's been weeks since I've seen you. How are you?"

"Quite well, although I've been a bit ill," Cosette admitted. She grinned and glanced over at Marius. "But I'm feeling much better now. We actually have some news..." Cosette looked like she was bursting at the seams, and Marius had never worn a bigger smile.

Enjolras looked back and forth between them and had a feeling he knew what was coming. "Oh, Lord..." he mumbled. What a bumbling idiot Pontmercy was about to become.

"What?" Gabrielle asked curiously.

"We are expecting a baby," Cosette said happily, and Gabrielle squealed, immediately embracing her friend.

"Oh, Cosette! That is so wonderful!"

Enjolras was a bit surprised by Gabrielle's reaction. It was just a baby – what was there to be so excited about? He realized Marius was looking at him and plastered a smile on his face, reaching out to clap Marius on the shoulder.

"That's excellent, Marius. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Enjolras. We're thrilled." Marius was grinning stupidly, and reached out to wrap an arm around his wife's waist once Gabrielle had let go of her.

Enjolras' mother offered her congratulations, as well, and then the women began to dominate the conversation. Cosette smiled happily the whole time, even when talking about how sick she had been for weeks previously.

Eventually, Marius rose and gestured to Enjolras, and they left the women alone to talk in the library.

"Thank you for acting excited for us," Marius said over his shoulder as they entered the room. "I know that having a family isn't something you necessarily understand, but it does mean a great deal to Cosette, having never known her mother, and just losing her father. I'm sure Gabrielle would feel the same way."

Enjolras started. Would she?

"I am happy for you, Marius, I'm not pretending. I'm not heartless, you know."

"I know, don't worry. But I also wanted to come today to talk to you about the paper."

Enjolras nodded for him to go on.

"Joly and I think it's time to print. We have enough for the first issue, especially if we use what Gabrielle wrote a few months ago. Do you agree?"

Enjolras settled into an armchair. "Yes, I think there's no better time than now. We are all going to use pseudonyms, yes? I don't want this connected to you, or your growing family, in any way. Or to Gabrielle."

"Of course. I think we've learned our lesson. We'll all be more cautious from here. When do you think we should print?"

"The beginning of the new year seems an appropriate time. Although, Marius, I don't know how big of a help I can be right now. This case is taking up a lot of my time. I've barely been home since I started."

"It's alright. Joly and I can shoulder this responsibility for now. How is the case coming, by the way?"

"Well..." Enjolras hesitated, but wanted to share his burden. He hadn't been able to talk about it to anyone so far. "It was a soldier my client killed. But there was another soldier there, too. I tracked him down the other day, and I recognized him," Enjolras admitted. "And you can't breathe a word of this, Marius."

Marius leaned forward. "Of course. How do you know him?"

Enjolras looked at him pointedly and realization dawned on Marius' face. "From the barricade?"

Enjolras nodded. "Yes. More specifically, he shot me."

Marius let out a low whistle and winced. "This could be bad, Enjolras. Maybe you need to give this to someone else. What if you're recognized? What would they do to you?"

"I don't know."

"Are you going to tell Gabrielle?"

"No. Not yet. Not unless I have to. There's no reason to worry her. But, Marius, if something should happen..."

Marius held up a hand and looked at him sternly. "Stop it. Nothing is going to happen. You're going to give this case to someone else, Enjolras, and do the sensible thing. You have Gabrielle to think of now."

Enjolras nodded, and dropped the subject, letting Marius think he'd won, but inside, he was still battling with himself.

This soldier deserved to be prosecuted – he had stood by while an innocent woman was violently raped, and known exactly what was happening. And, of course, there was more than a bit of a personal vendetta involved. The man had shot him, after all, at point blank range, and ordered others to fire, as well. He had killed Grantaire, too, though he hadn't acted alone. But still, just thinking of it made Enjolras' blood boil.

But what if the solider did recognize him? Even before Enjolras had seen him on the street the other day, his face had often haunted his dreams. Enjolras wondered if the soldier felt the same about him, the man he had thought he'd killed in cold blood. Did he see Enjolras' face when he closed his eyes, as well?

And if he did recognize Enjolras, what would he do about it?

* * *

**Oh man, y'all, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. I wrestled with this chapter BIG TIME. I'd write five pages, then delete it all, then write more, and delete...it took forever. I'm not completely happy with it, either, but I hope you enjoyed.**

**I've gotten really busy with work and some extra stuff, and this coming week, I have family coming into town to visit me. It may be a while (a week?!) until I can update again. I apologize in advance! Thank you for the FREAKING AWESOME reviews you guys are leaving, as well as the PMs and conversations we're having. You all are the best! And my guest reviewers, like Carollina, thanks for checking in and thinking of me! (And my friend.) **

**Honestly, her case has been receiving national news lately. I've seen it on ABC News, CNN, Fox News, etc. If you want to read about the case, just Google search "missing teacher new orleans." A lot of stuff will come up, and it's all about her. **

**Anyway. Please review and let me know what you think! THANKS!**

**OH. And so strange and random, but...I found an actress that is exactly how I've been picturing Gabrielle. When I saw her in this particular production, I was like, WHOA. How weird. I'm not saying who unless you ask because I think everyone can picture her exactly how you want to, but if you want to know, just PM me. :) And I'm also obsessively listening to Ryan Adams, "Desire" and it finally helped me get this chapter out. LOVE THAT SONG.**


	18. Chapter XVIII

**Warning: There is some serious, serious smut in this chapter. I'm actually fairly mortified to even post this. Read at your own risk.**

Chapter XVIII

Gabrielle awoke on Christmas morning to Enjolras' soft kiss on her brow. She opened her eyes and smiled to see his head resting next to hers on the pillow. It had been nice having him home all day yesterday, and Gabrielle was glad he would be there today, too. It wouldn't have been much of a holiday without him.

"Merry Christmas," he said softly.

"Merry Christmas."

Enjolras kissed her again, then slid out from under the covers and began to dress. "My mother is making breakfast," he commented. "I can smell it."

"I'm a little surprised your mother knows how to cook," Gabrielle said as she rose. "Didn't you have servants to do that? Your family has money."

"Growing up we did, yes. But now my mother lives alone, except for a woman from the village who comes a few days a week to clean. So she learned. She likes being independent, rather like you."

"I like that about her." Gabrielle dressed and sat down at her vanity to brush her hair. She watched Enjolras in the mirror and saw him take a small box out of a drawer in the back of the wardrobe. He didn't expect her to be watching since her back was to him.

"What is that?" she asked curiously.

He turned and glared at her. "You weren't supposed to see."

"Oh." She grinned and turned to face him. "Would that happen to be my Christmas present?"

"Yes." Enjolras sat on the edge of the bed and Gabrielle moved to sit next to him. She was excited – the only person who had ever given her a Christmas gift before was her brother. "Do you mind if I give it to you now? Privately?"

"Of course." Gabrielle bit her lip. It was a suspiciously small box.

"Well, I was thinking," Enjolras began, "that your wedding ring is...well, it's rather pathetic. I didn't put any thought into it, it's so plain, and I think you deserve a bit more than that." He was adorable, trying to explain himself. "I remembered a ring of my mothers, that my grandmother wore as her engagement and wedding ring her whole life. And I thought of your blue dress, and the way you looked on our wedding day, and the night of the Durand's ball. I love the way you look in blue, so..." he shrugged and took her hand, slipping the old ring off of her finger and the new one on. It fit perfectly. "I asked my mother to bring it. I want you to have it, if you'll wear it."

He looked nervous, like he half expected her to say no.

Gabrielle stared at him for minute, then looked down at the ring. There was a large blue sapphire in the middle, flanked by three rows of little diamonds in a circle. There was no doubt it was the most expensive thing she had ever touched, and it was certainly the most beautiful. She didn't know what to say, and looked back up at him in disbelief.

He mistook her silence for dislike and winced. "I'm sorry. It's fine if you don't like it or want it. I won't take offense, honestly."

Gabrielle shook her head and clutched her hand to her chest. "No! I love it! It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen! I just can't believe...I...I mean, you're really sure you want _me _to have it, Antoine? It belongs to your family."

Enjolras relaxed at her words and reached out to catch her chin, making her look at him. "Gabrielle. Do you really not understand by now that _you _are my family? There's no one else in the world that could wear that ring but you."

Gabrielle searched his eyes and found only the truth of his words looking back at her. She smiled slowly and leaned forward, brushing her lips against his. "Thank you. I'll never, ever take it off."

"It suits you. I thought it would." Enjolras took her hand, lightly touching the ring on her finger. "My grandmother died when I was young, but I distinctly remember her wearing this all the time. She never took it off, either."

"It really means so much to me, Antoine," Gabrielle whispered. "It's not just that it's a beautiful ring, but..."

Enjolras looked up at her and smiled. "I know. I hoped it would mean more than that."

There it was again – Enjolras saying 'I love you' without _actually _saying 'I love you.' Gabrielle laughed and threw her arms around his neck, the words on the tip of her tongue. She didn't care if he didn't say them back.

Just as she was about to speak, there was a soft knock on the bedroom door. "Antoine? Gabrielle? Merry Christmas! Come eat your breakfast."

Gabrielle met Enjolras' eyes and shrugged. Marie really had impeccable timing.

* * *

Enjolras' mother stayed through the beginning of the new year, and when she left a few days into January, Gabrielle found herself feeling rather lonely. She had grown used to having someone around to talk to all the time, and she missed Marie. She supposed that was what it felt like to actually have a mother, something she hadn't experienced since she was just a little girl.

Enjolras was back to working fifteen hour days, and the more time that went by, the more strained and anxious he seemed to become. He wouldn't tell Gabrielle any more details, and that worried her.

She had begun to get up when he did, just to spend a few minutes with him before he left the house each morning.

As she watched him dress one day, Gabrielle said nonchalantly, "You know it's my birthday in three days." She knew he had no idea – she had never mentioned it before.

Enjolras froze in the middle of buttoning his waistcoat and turned to look at her, his curls falling into his eyes. "It is?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." He suddenly looked perplexed. "How old are you going to be?"

"Nineteen." She laughed at the astonished look on his face. "Why do you look like that?"

"I don't know...you're _young_, Gabrielle."

"I'm not that young! You're only twenty-three. That's not a big difference."

"No...I suppose I just feel like I was a completely different person at nineteen. So immature and idealistic."

"You were a completely different person last _year, _Antoine," Gabrielle pointed out gently. "As was I."

"Is there anything you want? Husbands generally get their wives gifts, I've heard." He turned to look at her, leaning against the wardrobe.

"Well, in that case, I've been thinking. Cosette was talking about the opera the other day and how wonderful it is, and I've never been. I know you've gone a million times and it isn't really special to you, but...could we go?"

Enjolras shrugged. "Yes, that's no problem. That's really all you want?"

"Yes. Of course, you have to promise to actually attend with me and not have Cosette or Genevieve go in your place," Gabrielle said sternly. "Part of the gift is you being there."

"I promise I will go. I'm sorry I've been away so much. I'll make it up to you both during _and_ after the opera." Enjolras smirked at her suggestively and Gabrielle laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed and patting the space next to her.

"Or you could just stay home today. I think that would be perfectly acceptable, too."

Enjolras walked across the room and leaned down to kiss her goodbye. "Don't tempt me. I will see you tonight."

Gabrielle mumbled goodbye as he left and sighed, falling back on the bed dramatically. She hated how it seemed to physically hurt when he was away. As amazing as it felt to be in love, she thought it was actually rather annoying, too.

* * *

"He's working _all the time_, Musichetta. I feel like I haven't seen him in weeks," Gabrielle complained later that afternoon. "It sounds so silly; when did I become the kind of woman who needs to see her husband all the time? It's horrible."

Musichetta smiled and poured Gabrielle a cup of tea. "It's not horrible, Gabrielle. You're still newlyweds, really. And newly in love. When things are new, you want to be with that person constantly. But don't worry, it will fade." Musichetta smirked and sat across from Gabrielle at the table. "Take Joly and I for instance. I love him, but I would love him more if he were to move back into his own apartment."

Gabrielle snorted in laughter. "You don't mean that, 'Chetta!"

"No, I don't. But it would be nice to have some space. And you know Enjolras. He gets easily caught up in his work. That's just who he is. You knew that when you married him. Don't try to change him, Gabrielle, or you'll be sorry. You must accept him for who he is."

"I know..." Gabrielle shrugged. "You're right. He did promise to take me to the opera for my birthday tomorrow evening, though. I've never been before."

"Well that's nice! I had no idea it was your birthday. And, you know, dear, if you _really _want to keep things interesting and remind him of what he's missing when he's away from you, there's really _no _better place to make love to a man that somewhere completely unexpected." Musichetta's eyes sparkled.

"Is this idea going to embarrass me, 'Chetta?"

"Most likely. But you'll thank me in the end."

* * *

Gabrielle studied Enjolras' face as she sat across from him in the _fiacre_. It was quite a long ride to the opera, and he looked pensive and lost in his thoughts as he stared out the window. He had come home just in time to change his clothes before they left again, and he was obviously tired. It was't how much he was working that worried Gabrielle, but rather the way he seemed to be unable to leave his work behind when he came home. He was always pre-occupied, and Gabrielle wondered if he would always be that way.

She thought about what Musichetta had said the other day, about needing to keep things interesting and new, and grinned, moving across the small space to sit next to her husband.

He glanced at her and gave a small smile before turning his head back to the window.

Gabrielle reached over, resting her hand on his knee. She squeezed and slowly trailed one finger up his leg. He gave her his trademark, sidelong, scolding glance, as if he knew exactly what she was up to. She used her palm to begin rubbing his inner thigh, and she could feel his body automatically responding, even as he frowned. She noticed his eyes lingering on her breasts as he turned to look at her, her tight corset and his favorite low-cut blue evening gown showing them off nicely.

"Gabrielle, stop..." Enjolras said sternly, and took her hand, putting it back in her own lap.

She grinned and turned towards him, undeterred. "What? It is a long way to the opera. And I have barely seen you all week. _And _it's my birthday. We have to keep ourselves entertained." Gabrielle leaned over and kissed his ear, pulling at his earlobe with her teeth. Her hand moved back to its previous position and ghosted over his groin, making Enjolras suck in a deep breath. He gritted his teeth as he glared at her.

He didn't say anything else, but seemed to give in after a moment, closing his eyes and resting his head against the back of the seat. Gabrielle knew she had won and kissed his jaw, putting her hand back on his arousal.

She squeezed and felt him grow harder at her touch. She continued her ministrations, rubbing him through his trousers, and Enjolras' breath became more ragged as he became more turned on. "You need to stop, Gabrielle," he finally mumbled. "Or I'm going to take you right here."

"Oh, you think so? I don't see anything wrong with that, actually." Gabrielle quickly unbuttoned his trousers and tugged them down his hips, taking his large length in her hand. Enjolras grabbed her wrist and opened his mouth to speak, but Gabrielle interrupted before he could start. "Don't tell me it doesn't feel good...just let go, Antoine. No one knows but us."

Enjolras set his jaw and closed his eyes again, shuddering at her touch. She began to stroke him, squeezing and pulling at his engorged shaft. She couldn't help but stare as she stroked him, and blushed when she realized what she was actually doing.

"Gabrielle," he said again in warning, and she looked up to find him looking at her, desire burning in his eyes. "You're driving me mad. And I can guess whose idea this was. I know you went and visited Musichetta the other day, Joly told me."

She laughed and let go, sliding down to the floor of the _fiacre_ to kneel in front of him. "She does have some good advice, you must admit. Like this..."

"What are you doing?" he asked, watching her curiously as she moved to the floor.

"You'll see." Gabrielle grinned wickedly and leaned forward, running her tongue along his length.

Enjolras swore and grabbed the edge of the seat cushion, his knuckles turning white as Gabrielle slid his shaft into her mouth. He moaned as she began to suck, and his body involuntarily writhed, his hips thrusting.

He swore as she moved faster, fascinated by seeing him lose control like this, and he groaned again, reaching out to grip her hand. His face was red, and he was gasping, and Gabrielle knew he was close to his climax. She kept her mouth on him, swirling her tongue and gently using her teeth, and Enjolras groaned. He finally came, his seed spilling into her mouth, and Gabrielle didn't mind. He collapsed back onto the seat, his chest heaving, and put an arm over his eyes. "Jesus," he mumbled. "What are you doing to me?"

Gabrielle reached up and took his handkerchief from his pocket, wiping her mouth. She moved back to the seat and watched him as he calmed, his breath gradually going back to normal. She shifted on the seat and sighed, frowning when she realized she had satisfied _him _but only managed to get herself worked up.

Enjolras finally moved his arm and looked at her, his eyes still heavy with desire. "You are unbelievable." He reached out and pulled her close to him, his hand resting on the back of her neck.

"I need you to touch me, Antoine," Gabrielle whispered, and took his hand, slipping it beneath her skirts. His eyes widened in surprise, but he immediately acquiesced as she spread her legs apart. He helped her pull down her pantalets, and wrapped his other arm around her waist, bracing her between himself and the corner of the _fiacre_. His fingers slid along her opening and Gabrielle bit her lip, grabbing his other hand and moving it to her breast. She gasped as his fingers deftly moved inside her, a small cry escaping her throat as he repeated the motion. "Oh, God, Antoine, please..."

Gabrielle grasped his arm as he squeezed her breast, then moaned in frustration when she realized the _fiacre_ had stopped moving.

Enjolras swore and glanced out the window, abruptly moving his hand from under her skirts. "We've arrived."

Gabrielle whimpered and stomped her foot on the floor. "No..."

Enjolras laughed, looking at her with pity, and pulled her into his embrace. "We have a private box," he whispered in her ear, and Gabrielle shivered at his breath on her neck. "Can you manage to make it upstairs? When the lights go down, I promise I will finish what I started." His voice was low and rasping.

Gabrielle clung to his neck, her knees feeling weak and shaky. Enjolras was curiously adventurous tonight, completely unlike his usual self, and Gabrielle had never wanted him more. He had obviously missed her as much as she missed him.

Perhaps they should spend more time apart – it made the reunion that much sweeter. "You really promise?"

"I promise."

She nodded and fixed her clothing as he did the same, trying to make herself presentable. He took her hand as they climbed out of the _fiacre_ and Gabrielle was grateful for the cool night air blowing against her hot cheeks. They eventually made their way through the opera house and up to their private box, Gabrielle's mind completely elsewhere the entire time. She was sure she should be looking around at the impressive architecture of the building, but the only thing she could concentrate on was Enjolras' hand burning against the small of her back. As they took their seats, Gabrielle couldn't help but giggle a bit, astonished at herself.

"That was really not decent," she admitted with delight. Enjolras rubbed his thumb over her wrist, then raised her hand to his lips.

"Do you regret what you started now?" he chastised, though he wasn't really angry with her at all. Gabrielle realized she was wriggling in her seat, uncomfortable and wanting to feel his mouth on her.

"No," she said stubbornly. "And I know you don't, either."

He chuckled and scooted his chair closer to hers, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and planting a kiss on her cheek. "You always surprise me."

Gabrielle leaned her head on his shoulder, her hand resting on his leg. "I just want the show to start. No one will be able to see us then."

"You're usually quite _loud_, you know. And though I love making you scream, you're going to have to stay quiet here," he cautioned her, eyes twinkling with mirth.

Gabrielle raised her eyebrows and glared at him playfully. "You're not exactly quiet, either, and I'll do just fine, thank you." She grinned as the music began and the stage became illuminated, casting everything else into shadow. "It's my birthday and you promised," she reminded him quietly.

Enjolras moved his hand to the side of her neck and kissed her passionately. "I don't break promises, you know that," he reminded her after he pulled away. After a quick glance around to make sure they were truly alone and unnoticed, he kneeled in front of her and slipped his hands under her skirts, keeping his eyes on her face.

Gabrielle bit her lip and sighed in anticipation as Enjolras pulled her pantalets down, his hands lightly running up and down her legs. He shook his head and chuckled as if he couldn't believe he was actually doing this, and ducked beneath her skirts, kissing his way up her legs and gently pushing them farther apart. He was completely hidden beneath the voluminous material of her dress, and Gabrielle gripped the chair as she felt his tongue begin to lick her folds, gentle and teasing. Enjolras pushed her legs open further and slowly inserted his tongue into her, beginning to suck on her clit. Gabrielle's hand flew to her mouth, trying to remind herself to be quiet, but _God_, it was hard with his mouth on her like that. She had no idea how he had gotten so good at this.

She squirmed, gasping, and tightening around his tongue. She slid down farther on the seat as her hands grasped at the edge of the chair, pressing against his mouth. He wrapped his arm around her thigh, holding her in place, and Gabrielle whimpered as he pushed and pulled, bringing her closer to the edge. Gabrielle felt her body begin to shudder, and she bit her lip, her legs tense as she reached her climax. She went limp as she came, her chest heaving.

Enjolras gently kissed her inner thigh before slowly retreating from beneath her skirts, his face red from the effort. Their eyes locked and Gabrielle shook her head in amazement, reaching out to tangle her fingers in his now wild curls, which were standing up every which way. He gave her a wicked grin and reached up to wrap his arm around her waist, gently pulling her to the floor with him.

Enjolras nuzzled her neck and took her hand, immediately placing it on his groin. Gabrielle smiled when she felt how hard he was.

"This back and forth isn't going to work," he mumbled as he kissed her neck. His mouth moved to her collarbone, and then to the tops of her breasts, his tongue flicking out to lick the hollow between them. He was obviously ready to go again, and Gabrielle was more than willing to let him do as he pleased, right there in their box. His touch absolutely drove her crazy, and she knew she did the same to him. It was a powerful and heady feeling. Gabrielle didn't even care if others saw, though she didn't think they were in any danger of discovery. It was dark, and they were mostly hidden by walls and curtains.

"It's a shame we aren't actually enjoying the opera," she whispered teasingly as she unbuttoned his pants.

"I'm enjoying it more than I ever have before."

Gabrielle helped him get his pants down, then kissed him, tugging on his shirt to pull him on top of her as she lowered her back to the floor. Enjolras pushed her skirts up around her waist, frowning at all of the clothes between them.

He settled himself between her legs and slowly thrust into her, pushing as deep as he could. Gabrielle arched her back and raised her hips to meet his, and he buried his face in her neck, shaking with the effort of holding himself above her.

Gabrielle turned her head and whispered, "Harder, Antoine." She had learned quickly what made him crazy. He captured her lips with his and moaned into her mouth as he thrust harder, his movements becoming more frantic. She whispered more encouragement into his ear, wrapping her arms around his back and lifting her legs to take him farther in. Gabrielle felt his back tense beneath her hands and she knew he was close. She kissed his jaw as he rested his forehead against her neck, pushing forcefully into her one more time. Gabrielle felt his speed spill inside of her and she sighed in satisfaction. _How I love this man, _she thought to herself.

She cupped his face and kissed his forehead, but he quickly found her lips and kissed her tenderly. Gabrielle felt all of his unspoken emotions, and the force of it was staggering. She felt physically connected to him, and imagined an invisible string weaved through the air tying them together.

Enjolras slowly pulled out of her and sat up, helping Gabrielle fix her dress before pulling his own pants back up.

They didn't move for a few minutes, but sat on the floor gazing at each other, hands intertwined. He finally whispered, "You have completely turned my life upside down. You make me unspeakably happy, Gabrielle."

She felt her heart swell at his words. "And a bit reckless, apparently," she replied giddily, squeezing his hand. "And as nice as the opera is, Antoine...can we go home now? I think you've thoroughly exhausted me." Gabrielle wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms.

He laughed to himself and stood, pulling her up beside him. He took her hand and led her back through the opera house and to the street, where he helped her into a waiting _fiacre_. They sat beside each other and Gabrielle rested her head on his shoulder, still clinging to his hand. Before she knew it, he was gently nudging her awake.

"We're home, love." Enjolras kissed her forehead, and Gabrielle started awake at his words, her heart pounding when she realized what he had called her. She tried not to react, not wanting to make a scene of it, in case he had made a mistake or didn't mean to say it, but she somehow knew in her bones that it was no mistake at all.

She climbed out and stretched as Enjolras paid the driver. "I'm so tired I don't think I can even make it up to the house."

"Well, we can't have that." Enjolras wrapped his arm around her waist, effortlessly scooping her up into his arms.

"Antoine! What has gotten into you?" Gabrielle put her arm around his neck and laughed as he carried her up the walk and into the house, not putting her down until they were in their bedroom.

He began unbuttoning her dress for her, his fingers lightly trailing over her skin, and she gazed up at him, wondering when they had become so comfortable with each other. All of the awkwardness was gone, their touches were sure and tender, and she found only peace and comfort in his arms. When he did things like undress her, she never felt patronized or childish; she knew it was just the way he showed affection, and, she suspected, there was a piece of him that liked knowing he was the only one that had permission and the right to touch her.

Gabrielle let Enjolras slip her dress and corset off of her body, then climbed into bed to watch him undress. He had lost his shyness, as well, and didn't flinch away from her gaze as he stripped down, finally climbing into bed next to her.

She scooted closer and tangled her legs with his, resting her head on his chest. "Antoine?" she asked quietly.

"Hmm?"

Gabrielle lifted herself up on her elbow and gazed at him, biting her lip. He opened his eyes and looked at her expectantly, waiting for her question. Finally, she tentatively asked, "Do you love me?"

She had never had the courage to ask before, but after what they had just done, she didn't feel so afraid of his answer.

He looked at her, his expression betraying nothing at first. He didn't answer for several moments, but his eyes slowly softened and he reached out to brush her hair from her cheek. "Yes. I do love you, Gabrielle."

She smiled slowly as a dizzy and thrilling feeling spread rapidly through her limbs. At the same time, she felt affirmation. Gabrielle had suspected as much for weeks, if not months, but let it grow and weave itself through them unspoken. "You love me," she whispered, and he smiled, turning on his side to face her.

"Is it really that hard to believe?"

"No," she admitted happily and with some surprise. "It doesn't feel strange at all. And I love you, too."

"I know."

Gabrielle laughed and wrapped her arms around his waist, cuddling close to him. "I want to stay like this with you forever."

"Forever is a very long time."

"Well, you married me," she reminded him. "So we have at least a lifetime."

Enjolras kissed her bare shoulder, his hands running down her spine. "If there is anything after this lifetime, I swear I will spend that with you, too."

* * *

**Oh, Lord. *Hides* Be nice in your reviews, please. I seriously can't believe I posted that.**

**Smut, fluff, and ridiculous SAPPY CRAP all in one chapter. Someone kill me now.**

**Hope you enjoyed, though, and thank you for the reviews on the last chapter! I think y'all are the most awesome people on the PLANET.**


	19. Chapter XIX

Chapter XIX

Gabrielle knocked on the door of Monsieur Gillenormand's magnificent estate, still a bit in awe of her surroundings, even though she had visited the house many times since that first dinner with Enjolras. Today, she had unexpectedly found her way there, and was holding a small package delicately in her hands.

A servant opened the door, announced Gabrielle's presence to Cosette, and directed her to the sitting room. Cosette was resting on the sofa, but rose when Gabrielle entered and embraced her friend.

"Gabrielle! I didn't expect you today, what brings you here?"

Gabrielle was surprised to feel Cosette's swollen stomach pressing against hers as they embraced. When she had seen her only three weeks ago, Cosette's pregnancy hadn't seemed to be showing at all. Now, it couldn't be hidden.

"Well, I was out for a walk, just to get out of the house for a while, and I saw this. I couldn't resist getting it for you." Gabrielle handed her the package and Cosette sat on the sofa to open it.

"Gabrielle, that's so sweet. You shouldn't have!" Cosette unwrapped the package and pulled out a tiny white baby bonnet, laughing as she touched the soft material. "I can't believe how tiny it is! Can you even imagine? Thank you, it's incredibly thoughtful of you."

"You're welcome. How are you feeling?" Gabrielle sat in a chair by the window, her eyes drifting to Cosette's stomach. She was feeling a bit curious about when exactly this baby was due, but didn't want to be rude and ask too many questions.

"Oh, I'm fine, really! During the first few months, I was sick _all _the time, it was horrible. But now that I'm farther along, it's really not so bad. Except, well..." Cosette gestured to her stomach and smiled sheepishly. "I'm enormous, aren't I?"

"No..." Gabrielle lied. "But, has it really only been three weeks since I saw you?"

"Yes! I swear, one morning I woke up and I couldn't see my feet. It feels quite strange." Cosette smoothed her dress over her stomach so Gabrielle could see better. "I can even feel the baby move now, and Marius felt it for the first time last night. He was so amazed! It was most endearing thing."

Quite unexpectedly, Gabrielle was overcome with a strange feeling of jealousy. How intimate, to be carrying the child of the man you love and to have that man be so excited to have created a life with you. It must be an incredible feeling. She had never even contemplated it before.

"I think it's sweet, how excited Marius is. Apparently, even more so than usual, you and the baby are all he's talking about." Gabrielle smirked, thinking of Enjolras' annoyance. He wasn't one to tolerate the romantic musings of others, even though she thought he had come to be rather romantic himself when they were alone together. She was sure he would never let anyone else see it, though.

"And how is your husband? Wasn't it your birthday last week? Did you do anything special?"

Gabrielle blushed furiously as she thought of what going to the opera had turned into and Cosette's eyebrows immediately shot up. "Oh, _that _kind of special," she remarked.

Gabrielle smiled innocently, then quickly turned sober. "He finally said it - that he loves me," Gabrielle admitted, still feeling giddy just thinking about it.

Cosette leaned back against the sofa and gave her a knowing look. "Did he? Somehow, that doesn't surprise me at all, Gabrielle. I honestly thought it had been said months ago, the way you two have been acting."

"No! I mean, I wondered. I thought sometimes that maybe he did feel that way...but now I know for certain. And it feels wonderful."

Cosette's eyes suddenly filled with tears and Gabrielle leaned forward in concern. Cosette held up a hand and laughed through a watery smile. "I'm sorry! I'm not upset, I promise. I'm...happy? I cry over everything now, more so than usual. I'm just so glad that things have turned out so well. After last June, I wondered if anything would ever be completely right with the world again, and now both Marius and Enjolras are healthy and happy, and I met _you, _and I've never really had a real friend before, Gabrielle, and...everything feels so wonderful. And I'm so happy for you."

Gabrielle rose and moved to the sofa next to Cosette, giving her a warm hug. "You are the sweetest person, Cosette. Sometimes I wish I could be more like you, seeing the good in everything."

"Thank you. Oh!" Cosette suddenly grabbed Gabrielle's hand and placed it on her stomach. "Can you feel that? The baby is moving all around, it feels like he's doing flips!"

Gabrielle was startled to feel the slightest movement under her fingertips. She stared, her mouth falling open. "Cosette!"

Cosette laughed, her eyes sparkling. "Doesn't it feel strange? Imagine how it feels for _me; _but, it is absolutely amazing, too. I never knew I could love someone so much that I haven't even met."

"That's..." Gabrielle was at a loss for words, an unusual event for her. Her mind drifted in ten different directions at once, and she found herself strangely touched. She tried to picture her own mother's face. Had she loved Gabrielle like that, so completely and unconditionally, even before Gabrielle was born? She had so few memories of her parents.

And, even though she tried to stop herself from thinking it, Gabrielle also began to wonder what it _would _feel like to carry a child inside of her. And not just any child, but Enjolras' child. To make another life with him suddenly seemed the most amazing thing they could ever do together. It was a fleeting thought, however, because she had to admit that more than anything, it terrified her. She didn't know the first thing about babies. Children who could mostly take care of themselves, yes, but babies? She had never even held one before.

"How will you know what to do?" she asked softly.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know the first thing about taking care of a baby...do you?"

"Well, no, not really. But everyone has been telling me that it comes naturally. And we're searching for a nurse to help, too. I am a little nervous, I'll admit, but I really think it will be fine. I'm certainly not the first woman in the world to have a baby, am I?" Cosette said rationally.

"No, I suppose not. That is a comforting thought. And, when exactly, Cosette, do you think the baby will be here?"

"April," Cosette said nonchalantly, and Gabrielle quickly did the math in her head. The numbers certainly didn't add up to Cosette and Marius' wedding day...

Their conversation was interrupted by voices in the hall, which saved Gabrielle from having to respond. She was surprised to hear her husband's soft tones melding with Marius' loud exuberance as they neared the door. They sounded excited, though Gabrielle couldn't make out their exact words.

The men entered the sitting room, and Enjolras stopped short at the sight of her. She took notice of the way his face lit up and his posture changed and smiled at him before turning her attention to Marius.

"Just who we wanted to see! You couldn't have picked a better time to visit, Gabrielle. You've saved us from running to your house next!" Marius leaned down and kissed her cheek in greeting before moving on to his wife.

Gabrielle stood and crossed to Enjolras' side. "Hello," she said softly. "What brings you both here at this time of day? I thought you were at work?"

"I was, but Marius stopped by with this. Take a look." Enjolras handed her a newspaper.

Gabrielle's face lit up in recognition after a moment and she looked from Enjolras to Marius excitedly. "You've published it!"

"Indeed we did. It took longer than we thought it would, but it's being distributed as we speak. Open up to the second page, Gabrielle," Marius instructed her.

She flipped the newspaper open and read for a minute before she realized she was reading her own words. Her mouth fell open. "You used my article?"

"Yes. You had to know we would; it's incredible," Enjolras said, and Marius nodded enthusiastically.

"We didn't print your name, of course, but used a pseudonym, as we did for all of us, so don't worry about that. Do you think you would want to write more for us?"

"Of course! I honestly didn't think you would use this in your first issue. Thank you."

Gabrielle had never seen her own words in print before, and she read silently for a few minutes, thinking that they felt completely new in this proper and professional format. How her brother would have loved to see this!

After they had all combed through the paper and discussed plans for the next issue, Cosette held up the little bonnet Gabrielle had brought. "Marius, look at what Gabrielle gave us today. Isn't it the sweetest thing you've ever seen?"

Marius reached out and took the delicate garment. "It fits perfectly in my hand. Will the baby really be that _small?_"

"Yes, darling. Generally speaking, babies are fairly tiny at first," Cosette said patiently.

Gabrielle stifled a laugh and took Enjolras' hand, weaving her fingers through his.

"Marius, I have to get back to work," Enjolras reminded him impatiently. "Do you need anything else from me?"

Marius looked up and shook his head. "No, go on. I should probably be going, too, actually." Marius sat next to Cosette to talk for a minute and Gabrielle followed Enjolras into the hall.

Once they were alone, Enjolras turned to her and began in a whisper, "When exactly is..."

"...the baby supposed to be here?!" Gabrielle finished for him, laughing that they had both had the same thought. "I wondered the same thing! Cosette said in April, which means...well. They were married in September. Those dates don't exactly add up, do they?"

Enjolras raised his eyebrows. "That's not really surprising, actually."

Gabrielle laughed and stepped closer, leaning up to lightly kiss his cheek. "Do you really have to go back to work right now? Couldn't we spend some time together?"

"I have to go. I wish I didn't, but..." He shrugged apologetically.

"Well, I'll be waiting for you at home this evening. I'm so proud of you, with the paper. It really is wonderful." Gabrielle reached up and straightened his collar, and Enjolras caught her hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles.

"You should be proud of yourself, Gabrielle, not me. And I love you," he said quietly, but abruptly dropped her hand and took a step back before she could say anything in return.

Gabrielle glanced over her shoulder to see Marius standing in the doorway, watching them amusedly.

"Ready to go, Enjolras?" He was already trying to hold back his laughter, probably only for Gabrielle's sake.

"Yes. I'll see you tonight, Gabrielle." Enjolras followed Marius out the door with an apologetic look back at her. Marius was grinning like the cat that caught the canary, and Gabrielle had no doubt that he was about to tease Enjolras mercilessly for what he'd just overheard. She almost felt sympathy for her poor husband, who was so very awkward when it came to matters of the heart. Almost.

* * *

Instead of going back to the office, Enjolras found himself standing across the street from a dilapidated apartment building. After a little bit of investigation, he had found the address of one (former) Captain René Martin of the French National Guard. He had put it off long enough, but knew he had to talk to the man – the same man that had ordered a firing squad upon him and killed his friends. Just the thought of looking into his eyes again made Enjolras feel physically ill.

But Captain Martin had been there the night Enjolras' client committed murder, standing guard outside the little shack while the other solider brutally raped a helpless woman. He had to have known everything that was going on inside, and though he didn't participate in the act, he idly stood by and let it happen, and Enjolras thought that was just as bad. Apparently Captain Martin had recently been honorably discharged from the National Guard, but Enjolras didn't yet know why.

Enjolras' conscience ate at him as he closed his eyes and saw Gabrielle's face. She had looked so peaceful when he left the house that morning, her dark hair fanned out on the pillow around her, a tiny smile on her lips as she slept. And when he walked into the room and saw her sitting on the sofa with Cosette that afternoon, his stomach had literally done a flip. Seeing her unexpectedly had made his whole day better.

Enjolras loved her. He had not only told her he loved her, but accepted it whole heartedly himself; _thrown _himself into it, in fact, as he usually did with the things he felt passionately about. Hell, it seemed that nothing made him happier now than making _her _happy. Whenever he managed to put a smile on Gabrielle's face, he felt like he had won a battle. And, if Enjolras was honest, he had never been happier, either, in a strange and twisted way.

He was content and excited when he was with his friends last year, planning their revolution, dreaming about the changes that they all thought were coming and feeling the fire that a shared and common cause brought. But he had never felt the closeness to another person that he felt with Gabrielle, had never known someone quite so intimately.

If Captain Martin should recognize him, there would almost certainly be hell to pay. At best, he would be thrown in prison, and at worst, executed for leading the June Rebellion. Either way, Gabrielle's heart would be in pieces, Enjolras would be miserable knowing he had hurt her, and he would be completely breaking the promise he had made to Feuilly. Getting himself in trouble would only cause her more anguish than she had already been through, and, more than that – if he were to die, she would be left with no one. How could he even contemplate going to Captain Martin if there was the slightest possibility of Gabrielle being hurt in the process?

But Captain Martin could also be the key to proving his client's innocence. If he testified about what the murdered soldier had been doing to that woman, and said that everything had happened in self defense, then an innocent man's life would be saved. There had already been so many lives lost because of Enjolras' own selfishness. He couldn't allow another one to be thrown away, too.

Enjolras straightened as the door to the building opened and Captain Martin stepped out. He turned left and began walking down the narrow street. Enjolras followed him, staying quite a way behind, but always keeping the back of his head in sight. Eventually, Martin ducked into a small café.

After a moment, Enjolras peered through the window and saw him sitting at a table in the corner. He took stock of the sparse crowd and saw no one else he knew, so Enjolras took a deep breath, entered, and walked determinedly across the floor. He slipped into the chair across from Martin without a word.

Captain Martin looked up and narrowed his eyes, and Enjolras saw an immediate spark of recognition in the dark, troubled depths. "Do I know you, Monsieur?"

"No. But I know of you, and I need to speak with you about a man named Phillip Roux. Do you know who he is?"

Captain Martin shifted uncomfortably and Enjolras sensed a forthcoming lie. "No. And I'm certain we've met somewhere, Monsieur, you look very familiar to me. What is your name?"

"It doesn't matter," Enjolras pressed, determined not to give up or let the man see that his inquiries were making him nervous. "I am a lawyer; I work for a man named Durand. Phillip Roux is currently in prison for murder and we are representing him. I believe you were present the day this alleged murder took place, Captain, and I think you could save Monsieur Roux's life with your testimony. Are you willing to speak with me about what happened that day?"

Captain Martin looked at him steadily and Enjolras fought the urge to look away as understanding slowly began to dawn in Martin's eyes. "I do know you..." he said slowly, his face rapidly losing its color as he realized exactly who Enjolras was. "It can't be you," Martin whispered.

Enjolras did his best to look puzzled. "Monsieur, I'm not sure who you think I am, but..."

"I killed you. We shot you. You can't be alive," Captain Martin insisted. He glanced around the café in a panic, and Enjolras thought Martin looked like an animal caught in a trap, which was exactly what Enjolras felt like.

"Captain Martin, would it make you more comfortable to talk to someone else instead of me? Since you seem to think I am someone I'm not." Enjolras was sweating.

Martin stared at Enjolras like he was seeing a ghost and said nothing else.

After a few moments of tense, awkward silence, Enjolras cleared his throat and stood. "I will send someone else to speak with you tomorrow, Monsieur. I do hope you will consider helping my client – I think we both know he is an innocent man. I'm sorry my presence has upset you." Enjolras gave him a curt nod, turned, and walked confidently out of the café.

When he got outside, he realized his hands were shaking.

* * *

Gabrielle threw her pen down in frustration. She had sat down at her desk an hour ago after arriving home from her visit with Cosette, and for the first time in weeks, had tried to write; however, words were not forthcoming. She had a sneaking suspicion that her own happiness was the reason why. She had always written to escape from the real world, to go to a place where she could be anything she wanted to be and do anything she wanted to do through her characters. Now, though, she was content. She was doing work that was meaningful, had friends to talk to, and had found a home and family in Enjolras. A man – a beautiful, wonderful, passionate, intelligent man – loved her madly. She didn't think there could be anything better in the world.

No wonder she didn't feel the need to write. She still wanted to, because she missed the feeling of creativity and magic when she knew she had written something wonderful, but she supposed she would have to find a different motivation before she could compose anything worthwhile again. Gabrielle stood and glanced out the window, seeing Enjolras coming up the walk. It was much earlier than he usually came home, and Gabrielle wondered if he had snuck away just because she had asked him to earlier.

She went into the hallway to greet him as he came through the door. He dropped his things on the floor and shrugged out of his coat.

"You're home early! Not that I'm not happy to see you." Gabrielle smiled and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, noticing that he looked pre-occupied and troubled, completely unlike he had earlier that afternoon. "Are you alright?"

Gabrielle followed Enjolras into the library, where she had a warm fire blazing, and sat on the couch next to him. He didn't answer her question.

"Did something happen?" she asked, turning towards him on the sofa and pulling her legs under her. "You look so anxious..."

Enjolras stared at the fire for a minute before turning and meeting her eyes. "I've always told you I think of you as my equal. I don't feel the need to spare your feelings or hide things from you just to try and keep you happy," he said abruptly.

Gabrielle was puzzled and alarmed. That was the last thing she had expected to hear. "Alright...and what do you have to say that will make me unhappy?"

"I don't _want _to make you unhappy, Gabrielle. I just..." he sighed and took her hand, twirling her wedding ring around her finger. "I don't want to keep secrets from you."

"What are you talking about, Antoine? Are you in trouble?"

"No...I don't know, honestly. It will probably come to nothing."

"You're scaring me. What happened?" Gabrielle's grip tightened on Enjolras' hand.

"I'm sorry." He pulled Gabrielle close and kissed her forehead tenderly. "I'll start at the beginning."

Enjolras relayed the details of his case again, most of which Gabrielle already knew.

"What I haven't told you is that..." he hesitated, but she urged him to keep speaking with a look. "I found out there was another soldier there that day, a man who stood outside the front door to keep watch while his friend was inside violating my client's wife. I finally identified him a few weeks ago, but when I went to speak to him, I...I recognized him."

Enjolras' jaw tightened and Gabrielle got a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Who is he?"

"His name is Captain René Martin. He was there in June, at the barricade. He's the one who gave the order to fire on us. And he's the one that shot me, Gabrielle."

Gabrielle felt numb as she absorbed his words. Her mind was strangely blank for a minute before she began rapidly thinking through the different things this could mean. She didn't see any way this could end well.

"Has he seen you?"

"Yes." Enjolras looked apologetic, and Gabrielle realized her voice had come out shaky and terrified. "I spoke to him today. He recognized me, but I denied it. I acted like I had no idea what he was talking about. There's a good chance I was able to fool him."

Gabrielle stared at Enjolras, anger beginning to wash over her. He couldn't really be so naïve, not after everything that had happened to him in the last year, not after all of the people he had lost and all of the dreams that had died on the barricade. He couldn't really think that because he wanted it to, this little problem, mostly of his own creation, would simply go away?

"They could _kill_ _you_," Gabrielle whispered insistently. "If the army or the national guard finds out you are alive, they _will_ kill you, Antoine. Surely you know that? You weren't just there, at the barricade – you led the uprising! This Captain Martin _knows that._ He shot you! And Grantaire! How could you even think of talking to him?"

Gabrielle felt like she was floating outside of her body, watching the beginning of a nightmare. She was inexplicably terrified, and knew she sounded hysterical.

Enjolras ran his hands up her arms, gripping them tightly. "We don't know that, Gabrielle. He might not say or do anything at all. I looked into his eyes just before he gave those orders to fire on us – he regretted what he had to do that day. I saw it then and I saw it again today when he looked at me. He may even be empathetic enough to help my client _and_ stay quiet about me. Phillip Roux is _innocent_, Gabrielle, and what kind of man would I be if I simply handed this case off to someone who doesn't care as much? After all of the work I've done?"

Gabrielle glared at him and jerked away from his touch. She knew her next words would be a low blow, but to try and keep him safe, she would do anything. "You promised my brother," she hissed. "You _promised _him you would take care of me. Is getting yourself killed doing that? Do you truly love me at all?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Enjolras' face immediately fell, overcome by a look of horrible guilt and anguish. His eyes were suddenly haunted. "Gabrielle..." He didn't know what to say and took a shaky breath, his hands loosening on her arms. He looked utterly broken by her words.

Gabrielle covered her mouth as tears stung her eyes. She was appalled at her selfish manipulation.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, Antoine, I'm sorry! I just can't stand to think of what might happen. I can't bear to lose you. Please, _please_, do whatever you can to stop this. I will be selfish, and I _will _choose your life over another man's. Please, I don't care what you have to do!"

She burst into tears and Enjolras immediately pulled her back to him, cradling her against his chest. Gabrielle clung to his neck, feeling foolish after her outburst, but too scared to truly care.

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

Enjolras took his handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped her cheeks. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It's my fault, Gabrielle, and you're right about everything. Please stop crying, love. I can't stand seeing you upset."

Gabrielle managed to curb her tears after a moment, pulling away just enough to look at him. "What are you going to do? I promise, whatever you decide, I'll stand by you and I won't be angry. But he recognized you, Antoine – how can we possibly keep him quiet?"

"I'm going to tell Durand everything tomorrow. He'll take the case away from me, and I'll be no worse for wear. I don't think Martin was really sure it was me. He won't tell anyone, I'm sure of it."

"We could leave, just to be cautious," Gabrielle said uncertainly. "We could leave Paris and go stay with your mother, at least for a time. You would be safe there."

"No. I refuse to be chased away from my home," Enjolras said firmly. "That isn't fair to you, either."

Gabrielle fought the urge to hit him, feeling frustrated. "Don't you understand? I have no home if you aren't here. I am home when I'm with you, wherever you are. Please, Antoine. Tell Durand everything tomorrow, then come straight home and we can leave on the afternoon coach. We can stay for a month, or even two, and by then, everything will be over. And even if Captain Martin tells, there will be no one here for them to find! They will give up with absolutely no evidence but his word. Please? I'm begging you," Gabrielle pleaded. She knew she would never rest with Enjolras out of her sight now, unless they were far away from Paris and the things that could hurt him.

Enjolras stared at her, trying to gauge how serious she really was, and finally sighed. "If we leave, just for a month, will you forgive me for doing this to you?"

"I will forgive you only if nothing happens to you. I don't care a bit about having to leave, Antoine. I only care that you're with me, now, and for a long, long time to come. We can leave right now for all I care; none of this – our house, our things, other people – matters, as long as you're safe."

"Alright. I will go to Durand tomorrow, and we can leave by noon. I'm sure my mother won't mind us showing up on her doorstep." Enjolras managed a smile.

Gabrielle breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she was over-reacting, but she didn't care. She would do whatever it took to keep Enjolras by her side.

* * *

**Um, so. Aaron Tveit at 54 Below. Is anyone planning on going? I'm trying my best to go to the May 18th show. If anyone else is going to be there, please let me know! I'll be all by my lonesome and would love to meet up with some awesome people! Hopefully flights work out and tickets will be obtained by this Wednesday!**

**Also, thanks again for the incredible reviews. I appreciate it so much, especially since I was so nervous to post the last chapter. I apologize for the lack of smut in this one! lol**

**Please drop me a review and let me know what you think! THANKS!**


	20. Chapter XX

Chapter XX

Gabrielle slept fitfully, tossing and turning all night long. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw frightful images of things that had already passed and things she was afraid would soon happen because of Enjolras' rash actions. Her heart was constantly fluttering, beating loudly against her ribs, revealing her panic not only to herself, but to Enjolras, too.

Even Enjolras' arm firmly holding her waist didn't settle her. Just before sunrise, Gabrielle opened her eyes and felt wide awake, even though she had only been dozing for a few minutes. She turned her head to find Enjolras gazing at her, his eyes tired and puffy from his own lack of rest.

"Can't you sleep?" she asked softly.

"No. Someone has been thrashing about all night."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep you awake." Gabrielle turned on her side and kissed him gently to apologize.

"It's alright. I don't think I would have slept much, anyway."

They were quiet for a few minutes as Enjolras twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. Finally, he said quietly, "I'll go secure our place on the afternoon coach first thing this morning, then I'll go and tell Durand everything. I'll be back by ten o'clock and we can leave straight away. You're sure this is what you want?"

"Yes." Gabrielle pressed her lips to his, relieved that they would soon be able to leave this debacle behind them; with any luck, they would soon forget it entirely.

Enjolras moved towards her and deepened the kiss after a moment, pulling and sucking on her bottom lip and gently nipping at her skin with his teeth. He slipped his hands under her flimsy nightgown, caressing her hips and bottom and teasing her breasts. There was a desperation to his touch, a sort of anguished yearning, this morning.

Gabrielle sat up enough to pull the nightgown over her head. She tossed it to the floor and turned back to find Enjolras gazing at her, his eyes dark. His eyes drifted down her body, and he said hungrily, "I need you, Gabrielle."

She smiled and took his hands, guiding them to her breasts. "You have me."

His thumbs ghosted across her nipples, making them harden into peaks, and Enjolras growled low in his throat before pushing her onto her back and lowering his mouth. Gabrielle tangled her hands in his hair and sighed, arching her back as he swirled his tongue and nipped at the sensitive flesh.

Gabrielle felt his erection growing harder against her thigh, and a familiar ache burned low in her stomach, torturing her from the inside out. Enjolras pressed against her, moving his lips to the skin just below her ear, which he knew was her favorite spot to be kissed. Gabrielle lowered her hands to his bottom and squeezed, bringing her legs up and hooking them around his back.

"I love you," he said shakily. "God, how I love you." He sounded almost forlorn, and it made Gabrielle ache. She knew he was angry at himself for speaking to Martin yesterday. Her husband wore his guilt like a blanket, as usual, taking everything upon himself. He was hard on everyone he loved, expecting something akin to perfection almost all the time, but Gabrielle knew Enjolras was hardest on himself.

"I love you, too." Gabrielle took a deep breath, wanting to cry at how badly she wanted him inside of her, how badly she wanted to make him happy. He was holding out, trying to make it last as he gently kissed her jaw. She knew how to get him to relent, however, and reached between them, taking his length in her hand and guiding him to her opening. Enjolras hissed at her touch and bit at her shoulder.

"I need you inside of me, Antoine," Gabrielle whispered. "Please."

Enjolras acquiesced and pushed into her, raising his eyes to meet hers. He looked sorrowful, she noticed, and she pushed his curls from his face, rocking with him.

"Whatever is the matter, forget it," she whispered. "Everything will be alright."

He nodded and held her gaze, thrusting slowly into her. Gabrielle bit her lip and lifted her legs farther, feeling the familiar sparks that usually accompanied their love making. It wasn't enough today, however, and she sighed, gently pushing at his chest after a minute. "Stop...I need...God, I don't know."

She huffed in frustration and Enjolras paused, confused. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. I just...I don't know." Gabrielle pushed at him again and he pulled out of her, moving to sit against the headboard.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked worriedly, and Gabrielle shook her head.

"No! No, it's not you. I need...something." She sat up and moved onto his lap, straddling him. "I need something else..." She knew he usually preferred to be on top, but at this point, she didn't really care. She still ached for him.

He helped her settled herself onto his length, his hands running up and down her back. She slowly moved to take him farther inside of her, gasping at the way he felt from this different vantage point. Gabrielle wrapped her arms around his neck and rolled her hips, her body shuddering.

"Is this better?" he asked, his hands holding her firmly against him.

"Yes. Oh, God..." Gabrielle tightened her grip on his shoulders as she pivoted her hips. She could feel her climax building as she tightened around Enjolras' length.

Enjolras thrust up into her and Gabrielle stifled a scream, burying her face in his neck and pressing her chest against his, loving the way his skin felt against hers. She cried out as she finally came, her hands and body weak and shaking. Enjolras held her tightly for a minute afterwards, pressing his lips against her shoulder, and then gently rolled over, pressing her back against the mattress and settling between her legs in his preferred position.

He thrust roughly into her, moaning her name. Gabrielle was still a bit delirious from her own orgasm, and her limbs felt heavy. She held tightly to his shoulders, and finally, she felt him spill into her. He was sweating from the effort, and their lips met roughly, teeth knocking together, still caught up in their passion.

Enjolras slowly lowered his weight onto Gabrielle, resting his head on her chest as he pulled out of her. He was breathing heavily, and Gabrielle kissed his damp curls, taking his hand and intertwining her fingers with his.

She didn't feel the usual elation that came with making love to him. Instead, she felt almost desperate. Their union hadn't reassured her this time, but made her realize everything she could lose. They had to get out of Paris.

It seemed Enjolras' thoughts were similar, as he whispered, "I was so stupid to talk to him, Gabrielle. I'm so sorry."

"Shh. We've been over this, love, and it's going to be fine." She tried to reassure him, even though she still felt unbelievably scared herself. "We only have a few more hours here, and then we'll be gone, at least for a little while. And it will probably be for nothing. I will have completely over-reacted, you'll see."

"I hope so."

They lay tangled together for a few more hours, until the soft sounds of the city coming alive could be heard outside of the window. Gabrielle talked of other things, trying to ease her husband's worried mind, all the while tracing small circles on his back with her finger. It was the one comfort she could remember of her mother; whenever she couldn't sleep, she would crawl into bed with her parents, her mother would trace circles on her back, and Gabrielle would soon be fast asleep. It seemed to have the same calming effect on Enjolras.

Finally, they could no longer ignore the coming day, and Enjolras raised his head. "I suppose I should be going. Will you pack my things with yours?"

She nodded. "Yes, of course."

Enjolras pulled the sheets back and began to slip out of bed, but Gabrielle caught his arm and pulled him back to her. He smiled and kissed her tenderly, tangling his hands in her hair. She sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry again for being so angry at you yesterday," Gabrielle said after she broke their kiss. "I know you did what you thought was right, and you're only trying to help someone who needs it. That's what I loved about you first, so I can't very well fault you for it now."

"It was still foolish of me," Enjolras said, cradling her cheek in his hand. "I have more than myself to think of now; and not just you, but even Marius and Joly. What if they were implicated, too? And with the baby coming..." Enjolras shook his head and grimaced. "It was rash and stupid of me. I thought I'd learned my lesson about acting impulsively."

"It's going to be fine. The sooner you leave, the sooner you can come back." She pressed her lips to his one more time before finally giving him a gentle shove out of bed and climbing out herself. They dressed quietly, and Enjolras bid her goodbye with a promise to return no later than ten o'clock. Gabrielle watched him leave from the window until he had disappeared on the street, and then busied herself with packing until Sophie arrived to clean the house.

She told her of their plans, leaving out exactly why they were going, and just saying they wanted to surprise Enjolras' mother. Gabrielle soon had everything they needed packed and waiting by the front door, with still an hour to spare until Enjolras' return. She settled down to wait anxiously, and every second and minute that ticked by felt like hours. The time seemed to drag interminably on, but finally, the clock struck ten.

And Enjolras didn't come.

Gabrielle didn't truly begin to worry until about fifteen minutes later. She didn't see any reason for him to be late unless something bad had happened. Still – it was only fifteen minutes. She would wait just a little bit longer before going to Durand's office to look for him herself.

When the clock struck ten-thirty, panic had just begun to set in. Gabrielle paced restlessly, and couldn't seem to catch a breath. She couldn't take waiting anymore, and was just putting on her warm wrap to brave the frigid air when a knock sounded on the door.

Gabrielle closed her eyes at the sound, feeling physically sick. Whatever was waiting on the other side of that door couldn't be good. She knew something was wrong; she could feel it in her bones. Enjolras would have come if he had been able. He wouldn't leave her to worry and wait.

Gabrielle slowly walked to the door and opened it. An older gentleman stood on the other side, a man Gabrielle recognized as a fellow lawyer from Durand's law firm. The doorknob was slippery in her hand, and Gabrielle realized she had broken out in a cold sweat. The man's face was grim.

"Madame Enjolras, I am so sorry to bother you, but...well, my dear, there has been a bit of trouble this morning."

"What happened?" Gabrielle's voice came out weak and unsteady.

The gentleman looked apologetic, obviously upset to be the unfortunate one to deliver this news. "Your husband has been arrested, Madame. For the events in June? Some soldiers came early this morning and waited for him at the office. They let no one leave until he arrived, and we couldn't find a way to get a warning out to stop him from coming. I'm so sorry, Madame Enjolras..."

Gabrielle swayed, feeling faint, and the gentleman reached out to steady her. He helped her into the parlour and Gabrielle sank down onto a chair, her breath coming in short spurts. The man was talking, but Gabrielle had no idea what he was saying. She could hear nothing but the roaring of her own blood in her ears.

Finally, the man kneeled in front of her, looking incredibly concerned, and Gabrielle snapped her eyes to his. "I'm sorry – I can't...what...?"

"Is there someone I can get for you, Madame? Someone to help you?" he asked gently, and Gabrielle slowly nodded.

"I...yes. Can you deliver two letters for me?"

"Of course. It is the least I can do, Madame."

Gabrielle rose unsteadily and went to her desk in the library. She scribbled two hasty notes, one for Marius and one for Joly, and gave them to the man. She didn't know his name, and she didn't care to ask at the moment.

"What should I do, Monsieur? Where should I go? Will they allow me to see my husband?"

"I'm truly not sure, Madame. I know that Monsieur Durand is with him now, and will have the answers you seek as soon as he can. He told me to tell you to stay here. He will come as soon as he has any news."

Gabrielle laughed bitterly. Waiting, again. She thought of the endless night of June 5th, sleeplessly sitting by the window straining to hear any noise from the barricade, thinking of her brother and the other _Les Amis_, praying to a God she wasn't sure she even believed in. She had felt more and more hopeless and anguished as the night wore on.

She didn't know if she could live through such a wait again.

"Thank you for coming, Monsieur," Gabrielle managed to mumble. "I appreciate your help."

"It's no trouble, Madame Enjolras. I will deliver your letters straight away." He hesitated to leave, glancing around the room. "But will you be alright by yourself?"

Gabrielle nodded and waved him away. "Yes, yes. Please, go do what you can."

He bid her goodbye and left, and Gabrielle sank onto a chair, feeling numb and stupid. She could feel nothing; she knew she should be crying, but it seemed tears wouldn't come. She also couldn't bare to picture Enjolras' face, but everywhere she looked, she seemed to see him, anyway. A horrible, sick feeling was building in her stomach, and she could do nothing but sit and stare at the wall.

Sophie had left already, and Gabrielle was alone in the house. It was so quiet she could hear a pin drop, except for the soft ticking of the clock, which seemed to grow louder every second. The sound seemed to be mocking her.

Eventually, Joly and Musichetta arrived. Gabrielle didn't even hear them knock at the door, but suddenly, they were in the parlour, standing in front of her and trying to disguise their obvious worry. Apparently, her appearance was rather alarming, she gathered, and Musichetta soon had her bundled into bed. Gabrielle didn't even try to protest – in fact, she didn't even speak at all. Every time she tried to form words, she couldn't get them past the lump in her throat.

Musichetta stayed just outside the bedroom door in case she needed anything, and she could hear her and Joly discussing what could have possibly happened in hushed voices. The only thing Gabrielle had written in her note was that Enjolras had been arrested and she needed them. They apparently didn't know anything about Martin at all.

After a little while, though, Gabrielle heard Marius arrive, and he was much more aware of the situation. Gabrielle felt a spark of anger that Enjolras had confided in Marius weeks ago instead of her. And, considering how long Enjolras had known about Martin, his decision to talk to him couldn't have been that impulsive.

Still, none of it seemed to matter. It seemed much more important to just stay buried under the covers, feeling detached and watching things happen. Gabrielle didn't even really feel like herself. The morning after the barricade, she had been filled with a restless energy, an electricity that kept her moving even though the most terrible moments and sights she had ever seen. Now, she was paralyzed and lethargic.

And even though she knew it was still too early to know what would happen, the only thing Gabrielle kept picturing in her mind was Enjolras in front of a firing squad, his body falling limp and helpless to the ground as the guns blazed.

And she didn't know how to stop it.

Gabrielle must have eventually fallen asleep. She awoke to Musichetta gently shaking her shoulders.

"Gabrielle, darling, wake up. Monsieur Durand is here."

Gabrielle groaned as memories of the day came rushing back to her. "It wasn't a horrible dream?" she whispered.

Musichetta shook her head sympathetically. "No. I wish it was. Can I get you anything?"

"No." Gabrielle sat up and took a deep breath. A dull, heavy, boulder had settled in her stomach and she felt sick. "Will you tell Monsieur Durand I will be out in a moment? I need to make myself presentable."

"Yes, of course." Musichetta reached out and squeezed her hand before leaving the bedroom. Gabrielle climbed out of bed, wincing as she caught Enjolras' scent on the pillow next to her. Before she had fallen asleep, she had been numb. Now she couldn't stop feeling and all she wanted to do was cry.

After slipping her dress back on, Gabrielle sat in front of the mirror and fixed her hair. She finally met her own eyes and was appalled at what she saw. She was pale and gaunt. In only a few hours, she seemed to have aged ten years. She looked dull and lifeless, and pinched her cheeks, trying to bring a bit of color to her skin. She didn't want to worry the others more than they already were by her mute performance that morning.

She couldn't let that happen again. It would do her no good, and it would do Enjolras no good, either. She had saved his life once. She could certainly find a way to do it again, couldn't she? She would break him out of prison herself if she had to.

After steeling her nerves, Gabrielle left the bedroom and went into the library, where she could hear soft voices through the door.

Everyone hushed as she entered, their eyes drifting to her sympathetically. Marius rose and took her arm, guiding her to the sofa. He seemed to expect her to fall apart at any moment, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of being right.

"Thank you for coming, Monsieur Durand." She managed a smile and nodded to the older gentleman, who had risen when she entered the room. He sat stiffly, and Gabrielle could sense how grim the situation was, even though he was trying to seem cheerful.

"It is my pleasure to help in any way I can, Gabrielle. I was just explaining to your friends that I've been with your husband all morning, and I now think I understand the particulars of the case. Obviously, Captain Martin went straight to the authorities after Enjolras spoke to him yesterday. I just don't know quite why, considering he is no longer a member of the National Guard."

"You've just told me nothing I don't already know myself," Gabrielle said quietly. "Is there anything else you've discovered today?"

Durand hesitated, then shook his head slowly. "Nothing concrete, no. I haven't been able to speak to Captain Martin. I don't think I will be able to do much of anything until that happens."

"How is my husband?"

Durand sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Angry. At himself, at Martin. And very worried about you, my dear. He feels horrible."

Gabrielle didn't respond, and Joly asked quietly, "Monsieur, what do you think may happen? Do you think you will be able to free Enjolras?"

"I truly don't know. Anything could happen, Monsieur Joly. I'm sure you have all gone over the possible scenarios by now. I can't rule anything out at this point. And," he said gently, with a pointed look at Gabrielle, "you need to be prepared to face the worst, Gabrielle. But please do not lose hope. I know Enjolras will do everything he can to get back to you."

"What can I do to help, Monsieur Durand?" Gabrielle asked confidently. "I am willing to do anything. But please don't ask me to just sit and wait. That I don't think I can take."

Durand smiled sympathetically. "I'm afraid that's all I can ask you to do for now. Keep yourself well so I don't have to lie to your husband. Write to him, and I will try to smuggle your letters in, though I am not supposed to..."

"I can try to find Captain Martin," Gabrielle interrupted. "Perhaps if I try speaking to him, find out why..."

"Gabrielle, I don't know if that's such a good idea." It was Marius' turn to interrupt. "I don't think Enjolras would want you to get yourself in trouble, and going to Martin might not be safe for you. I think you should leave this to Monsieur Durand."

Musichetta glared at Marius and said firmly, "Monsieur Marius, if it was you in prison instead of Enjolras, I am certain that Cosette would be doing everything in her power to set you free. I think Gabrielle has more than proven herself capable of handling pressure. She should do whatever her heart tells her to."

Gabrielle smiled gratefully at Musichetta, and was thankful to see Joly nodding along with her words.

Marius held up his hands placatingly. "I'm just trying to think of what Enjolras would want. And I don't think he should have to worry more knowing that Gabrielle is going after men like Captain Martin." Marius practically spat his name.

"Enjolras will worry about me regardless," Gabrielle reminded him. "And he also knows I am more than capable of taking care of myself. I will do whatever I can to help." She turned back to Durand and asked fearfully, "Will I be allowed to see him?"

Durand slowly shook his head. "No. They will allow no one but me, as they say he is a dangerous man and a threat to the state. Truthfully, he is lucky to be getting a trial at all, and not immediately..."

Durand trailed off, and Gabrielle winced. She knew he had been about to say "executed." Just the word set her hands trembling and she clasped them in her lap.

"I can't thank you enough for helping us, Monsieur," Gabrielle said, and rose to walk Durand to the door. "I will be grateful to you forever."

"Think nothing of it, Gabrielle." Durand leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Genevieve will be by to check on you tomorrow, I'd imagine. Please take care of yourself."

She bid him goodbye and returned to the library where the others were waiting, their expressions grim. Gabrielle took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. "Well. I suppose there is nothing we can do today."

Marius rose and began to put on his coat. "No. But Gabrielle, please send me a message the moment you hear any news. I'll be back tomorrow and I'm also going to help Durand with the case if I can at all. And Cosette sends her love...I wouldn't let her come, I was afraid it would make her too anxious. But she's sorry she can't be here with you."

Gabrielle shook her head and briefly embraced him. "It's alright. Tell her I understand and I hope she is well. I will come see her as soon as I can."

Marius left and Gabrielle sat down next to Musichetta on the sofa. They immediately joined hands, and Gabrielle was grateful for the comfort of a physical touch seeming to anchor her to the earth. Just as Enjolras' hand did so many times in the days after the barricade as she mourned her brother and he his friends...

"Joly, go home and fetch our things. We can't leave Gabrielle here by herself," Musichetta said firmly, and pointed a finger at Gabrielle when she started to protest. "No! I will not hear a word about it, Gabrielle. We will both stay here and help you. Enjolras would never forgive us for leaving you alone at a time like this."

Gabrielle realized how much she didn't want to be alone and felt a rush of intense warmth and gratitude for Musichetta. "Thank you. You're right, I don't want to be by myself right now. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

Joly left to go pack some of their things and bring them back, and Musichetta turned to Gabrielle once he was gone.

"You can cry, you know. You don't have to be strong in front of me. I would be falling apart right now if I were you."

Gabrielle sighed and closed her eyes, leaning back against the sofa. She felt exhausted, like she had just run a hundred miles. "Believe me, 'Chetta, I would like to cry. I just don't seem able to. Earlier, I couldn't feel anything. Now I can't stop, and it just hurts. Everywhere."

"Come, lets get you back into bed. There's no sense in doing anything else. If you want to wallow for a day, then you shall wallow. We'll figure out what to do tomorrow," Musichetta said sensibly.

Gabrielle followed her into the bedroom and let Musichetta pamper her, brushing her hair comfortingly and tucking the sheets firmly into bed around her. Gabrielle laid awake the entire afternoon, staring at the ceiling, her heart in her throat. But still, tears wouldn't come. Musichetta forced a bit of soup down her throat for dinner, then left her alone again.

As the room darkened, Gabrielle turned on her side, half expecting to see Enjolras lying there beside her. Her heart contracted painfully at the sight of his empty pillow, and she gasped as she inhaled his scent. He was suddenly everywhere, all over her skin and clothes, in her hair, in her mind. Had it really only been since that morning that they'd made love? Since she had kissed him goodbye? It seemed like ages ago already.

She reached out and grabbed his pillow, holding it firmly to her chest. When she had first moved into the de Sauveterre house, she had delighted in having a big, comfortable bed all to herself after sleeping on a narrow cot for years in school. Now, she couldn't remember what it felt like to sleep alone, and the bed seemed cold and enormous without him there next to her. She didn't want to get used to this feeling. She didn't think she could take it.

Finally, the tears came.

Gabrielle cried into her pillow, trying to muffle her sobs, though she knew Musichetta and Joly could probably hear her sounds of distress. They didn't disturb her, however, and eventually, after what seemed like hours, Gabrielle cried herself into a restless sleep.

* * *

**Aw, man. I'm sorry. I just made things get super dramatic and sad. I apologize! But I hope you enjoyed it, anyway!**

**So. Aaron Tveit at 54 Below. I know at least ONE of my amazing reviewers is going (I hate you, Britt), but now I don't know if I'll be there or not. I may try to get tickets tomorrow, we'll see. **

**By the way, it's now been a month since my friend went missing. Just going to throw this out there because yay! Positive energy! Her name is Terrilynn Monette. Google her to read about the amazing stuff she was doing here for our kids. You may have seen it on national news here in the US, also. Please think of her, pray, send whatever good vibes you can. There's still absolutely no trace of her.**

**And also. Don't drink and drive! Seriously. My dad and his girlfriend were hit by a drunk driver on their way home from visiting me on Easter Sunday. Thankfully, they're FINE, but both vehicles were going over 70 mph and it could have been really, really bad. They're very lucky, though their jeep was not. **

**And that's all. THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS! Please let me know what you think of this new twist to the story! :)**

**~Aimee**


	21. Chapter XXI

Chapter XXI

_"You've really done it this time, haven't you?"_

_ Enjolras jerked awake at the sound of Feuilly's voice. His neck was stiff from resting on the table, and he looked around, baffled at his surroundings. How had he ended up at the Musain? It seemed perfectly natural that Feuilly would be here, though Enjolras knew he was dead, but waking up in a different place than where he had fallen asleep..._that _he couldn't accept._

_ "How did I get here?" he mumbled._

_ Feuilly rolled his eyes and sat across from him at Enjolras' usual corner table, tucked away from the noise and chaos of the usually busy room. "I don't really think that matters, Enjolras."_

_ "No, it doesn't," Combeferre agreed, suddenly appearing at the top of the stairs. "We have much more important things to discuss. What matters is how in the hell you're going to get yourself back home and out of trouble. You're really in prison right now, you know. This is just a dream," Combeferre said rationally._

_ "I'm aware. Though my dreams about all of you usually turn into nightmares," Enjolras admitted, frowning._

_ "Thanks," Grantaire said sarcastically, and Enjolras turned his head to see him hidden in the shadows across the room, his usual bottle of wine glued to his hand. "It's absolutely wonderful to see you, too, Chief."_

_ Enjolras gazed evenly at Grantaire, expecting him to begin his usual accusations against Enjolras at any moment. That's what usually happened when he dreamed of his friends, along with the shockwaves of guilt seeing their faces still caused. It didn't come this time, however, and Enjolras asked curiously, "Where is everyone else?"_

_ "Around," Combeferre shrugged. "You never know these days. Back to the subject at hand, though..."_

_ "What were you thinking, talking to that scum? He shot us, you know," Grantaire said disdainfully._

_ "I'm aware of that, also," Enjolras sighed. "I don't know what I was thinking. It was stupid and completely foolish."_

_ "Did Enjolras just admit he made a mistake?" Feuilly laughed. "My, how things have changed!"_

_ "I've always been able to admit my mistakes. I just...well, I just rarely made them," Enjolras protested weakly._

_ Combeferre smiled indulgently. "You've made plenty of mistakes, Enjolras. Revealing yourself to Martin was just your most recent. And I don't know if you can do anything yourself to fix it now."_

_ "I think he's stuck right where he is," Grantaire agreed. "You can't do much from behind bars."_

_ "It seems you're going to have to rely on others to set you free," Feuilly said gravely. "Like my sister, perhaps...and that I'm not happy with."_

_ Enjolras frowned and looked away. He felt distinctly uncomfortable talking about Gabrielle with his friends, but especially with Feuilly. After the things he had done with her, still longed to do with her and the nights they had spent together as husband wife, how could he even look him in the eye? He felt his skin flushing just thinking about it._

_ "He blushes!" Grantaire exclaimed. "I remember teasing Marius about this same thing once. And what was it Enjolras said? 'No one cares about your lonely soul, Marius.' Have you changed your tune now, Enjolras?"_

_ "I only meant that it wasn't exactly the right time for Marius to be falling in love. I don't have an aversion to the emotion itself. You make me sound like I'm made of stone." Enjolras wondered if his friends really did think he was heartless or if they were just teasing. He could never really tell in these dreams..._

_ "Now that you're in love yourself, you mean. How is your beautiful wife? Lonely, I'd imagine. Sad. Heartbroken. Panicked. I could go on." _

_ Grantaire's words cut to the bone and Enjolras winced, risking a glance at Feuilly._

_ "Shut up, Grantaire," Feuilly said mildly. "But he is right, you know."_

_ "I know. Believe me, I know..." Enjolras glared at the wooden table, crossing his arms across his chest. "I hate myself more than any of you can possibly hate me. And I'm sorry, Feuilly, for letting you down." Enjolras couldn't meet his eyes._

_ "You haven't let me down, Enjolras. Not yet, anyway. This isn't over. You aren't dead. There's still time."_

_ "But what can I do? I'm stuck in prison. They will let no one but my lawyer in to speak to me, and I'm lucky they're even allowing that. I'm completely helpless, worse than a baby. And I hate it," Enjolras growled._

_ "What does Durand need to know to get you out?" Combeferre said rationally. "What would it take?"_

_ "For me to be someone else," Enjolras said immediately. "And how do I go about that?"_

_ "Obvious. Say you weren't there," Grantaire said. "Deny any involvement with the rebellion. Act like they have the wrong man. You could even go so far as to declare your love for our good king, Louis-Phillipe!"_

_ "But they _don't_ have the wrong man. And I can't pretend it didn't happen. It would be like denying all of you, denying that you mattered, that your sacrifices mattered. I can't do that. And I certainly won't declare my allegiance to that phony they call a king," Enjolras added. _

_ "You can do all of that, and you will if it will help set you free. Not that they will take your word alone as the truth. So, who else needs to be convinced? And who else can help convince them?" Combeferre asked._

_ Enjolras was silent as he thought. He pictured Captain Martin's face, the conflict in his eyes and voice just before he ordered the shots to be fired in June, and the same conflict that was present when he recognized Enjolras the other day. So what had made him turn Enjolras in, if he possibly regretted what he had to do?_

_ And why was he no longer a part of the National Guard?_

_ "Durand has to speak to Martin. Why did he go to the authorities? When I think about the way he looked that day, and the way he told us we could still turn back just before the final blow, I feel certain that he wasn't happy about being a part of the rebellion at all. He didn't want to kill any of us. He felt absolutely no pleasure in it. So why did he turn me in?"_

_ Combeferre leaned back in his chair and nodded. "You have to start somewhere, and that does seem like the logical place."_

_ "I agree," Feuilly said quietly. "But what do you intend to do about Gabrielle, in the meantime?"_

_ "What can I do?" Enjolras whispered. He felt short of breath just thinking about it, the pain of missing her manifesting itself physically. "I don't even have a way to write to her. Surely she knows that..." Enjolras stopped and swallowed, turning to look out the window. _

_ His mind flashed back to the last time he had seen Gabrielle before the June rebellion. She was walking away from the Musain, silhouetted in moonlight, and had turned to look back at the caf__é__. Their eyes had met, and even then, Enjolras had been struck by her beauty, though he tried not to let his feelings show._

_ "Knows what?" Feuilly pressed._

_ "She knows that I love her. I would do anything for her, Feuilly. Surely you know that." Enjolras finally met his eyes. "I promised you I would take care of her. And I will."_

_ Feuilly grinned and clapped his shoulder. "Are you sure she isn't the one taking care of _you_, my friend?"_

* * *

Enjolras awoke to perfect darkness after yet another dream of the other _Les Amis. _He had dreamed of them every night since he'd been in prison, having a different conversation every time and trying to work out his situation with their help.

It was so dark Enjolras couldn't even really make out the inky blackness of the night sky through the lone window at the top of his cell. He couldn't even see his hand in front of his face. No candles were permitted at night, so from the time the sun set until it rose the next morning, all he could do was either sleep or think.

Neither option was pleasant. His dreams were haunted either by his friends or Gabrielle, as were his thoughts. He couldn't escape from his mistakes no matter where he turned. He tried his hardest not to think of his wife, but he couldn't stop worrying. He knew she must feel as much anguish as he did at being parted. He had been in prison for four days, and missing her wasn't getting any easier.

Before June, Enjolras hadn't cared whether he lived or died; in fact, he had been prepared to die for his cause. He wasn't afraid of death, living only for his _Patria, _as he always had. He still wasn't really afraid of dying. What did terrify him was what he would be leaving behind, and the things he would never get to do with Gabrielle. Just the thought of never seeing her again was almost too much to bear. He wanted to grow old with her, watch her accomplish all of her dreams, travel the world with her and see it all through her eyes. She had showed him what truly loving another person felt like, how wonderful it was to feel needed and supported. Just when things were going so well, he had to go and make such a grave error, one that would probably cost him his life.

Maybe giving him such happiness for such a brief period of time only to have it ripped away was just punishment for what had happened in June, though. Maybe he truly was supposed to die with his friends.

But Gabrielle didn't deserve such a punishment, and that angered him. So, he resolved himself to fight against death with every fiber of his being, for as long as he could. There would be a special place reserved for him in hell were he to let her down, he was sure.

Enjolras brooded over his thoughts until he finally began to see the first orange rays of sun streaked against the sky outside his window. A guard shoved a meager breakfast into his cell and Enjolras ate the tasteless goop in only a few bites. Having no taste at all was better than being horrible, he figured, trying to look on the bright side. After another few hours, Durand came to see him.

They were cramped in his tiny cell, but Enjolras was grateful for the company. He knew he must look awful still, since Durand kept glancing anywhere but at his face as he entered, unwilling to stare at the bruises and welts that had turned from a deep purple to a sickening yellow. The guards had not been kind as they arrested him, but Enjolras knew he could have gotten it worse, so he refrained from complaint. Durand sat at the little table in his cell and Enjolras perched on the edge of the bed, eager to hear any news.

"How is Gabrielle?" Enjolras asked anxiously, even before offering a greeting.

"She is still fine," Durand said gently. "Worried, and sad, of course, but I am impressed with her strength. I talked with her yesterday and she wanted to know what she could do to help. Again...it isn't the first time she's asked me."

The corner of Enjolras' mouth raised, picturing Gabrielle with her determined stance, shoulders back and chin raised, ready to take on the entire French army if she had to.

"I hope you told her to stay out of trouble."

"I did, though I can't promise she will listen. She reminds me of my own wife. Most men are so afraid of a woman with a brain, but I never quite understood why. They're much more fun, aren't they?" Durand said lightly, obviously trying to lighten the heavy mood in the cell.

Enjolras smiled and nodded. "I've come to think so, yes. Did you find anything out that could help me?"

Durand sighed and took a few papers from his case, glancing at the notes he had written.

"Well, I have been doing some investigating, trying to discover why Martin was honorably discharged. What I found is rather intriguing." Durand's eyes sparkled and Enjolras felt a flicker of hope. He waited for Durand to continue. "It seems Captain Martin is not as heartless as I thought. He was trying to help your client, Philip Roux, from the start. They let him go because he was speaking out against the soldier that was killed, telling people what really happened. The National Guard didn't like it much, obviously."

Enjolras was a little taken aback, but not much. He had seen the conflict in Martin, had sensed that he wasn't just a cold-blooded killer. Maybe there was hope for both of them yet.

"Have you been able to track Martin down?"

"No. That's where my luck has stopped so far. I can't seem to find him anywhere." Durand put his papers down and tapped his fingers against the desk. "You don't have any ideas about where to look, other than the address you gave me?"

Enjolras shook his head. "No. Damn it. He can't be that far, not unless he's left Paris."

"Well, I'll find him soon. I won't rest until I do, and I'll put out word to everyone I know. I doubt he's left the city."

"And am I still to claim ignorance? Act like they have the wrong man?"

"Yes. It's the only way we have any hope. When I find Martin, I'm hoping I can convince him to say he misidentified you. Then, they really have nothing to go on at all. And I may be able to pull a few more witnesses out of my sleeve to say you have _never_ had anything at all to do with any thoughts of rebellion." Durand grinned wryly.

Enjolras didn't even want to know what Durand was up to. There was nothing he could do from inside these walls, anyway.

"Is there anything else I should know?"

Durand hesitated, then said slowly, "Well...Gabrielle expects your mother to arrive any second. She wrote to her straightaway, even though she knew you would probably disapprove."

Enjolras winced and rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "Jesus. She's going to be worried sick."

"She still deserves to know what's happening, Enjolras. And you can't expect her to sit idly by, a hundred miles outside of Paris, waiting for word of either her son's release or execution."

"I suppose not," he mumbled. Maybe his mother's presence would be good for Gabrielle, too; even through her own worry and anxiousness, she would still try to take care of Gabrielle, and Gabrielle would do the same for her. That thought was comforting to Enjolras.

"Oh...I brought you this." Durand pulled out a few blank pieces of paper, a quill, and ink and laid them on the table. "If you write quickly, I can smuggle a letter out today."

Enjolras looked at the items gratefully and rose, clapping Durand on the back. "Thank you. I'm sure Gabrielle is anxious to hear from me."

The men switched places and Enjolras settled himself at the table, taking up the quill in his hand. Now that he was faced with it, however, he wasn't quite sure how to begin...

_Gabrielle,_

_ Now that I'm actually able to write to you, I find myself at a loss. I don't know how to put everything I'm feeling into words. No sentiments seem adequate enough to make you understand how much I miss you, how worried I am about you, and how fiercely I wish I could hold you in my arms. I think about you constantly, I dream of you at night, and my narrow bed seems cold and lifeless without you beside me. _

_ I'm so sorry for getting us into this mess. I can't stand thinking that I'm causing you pain. I hate myself for it. I'm sorry isn't even good enough. If I come out of this alive, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you._

_ This may be my last opportunity to write, so I can't let this go unsaid – I will regret it if I do. I need you to know that no matter what happens, I regret nothing that has happened between us. I'm grateful for the time I've been able to be with you, even if it turns out to be fleeting and brief. No time on earth, though, would ever be enough with you. I will always want more. You have made me the happiest man alive, and certainly the luckiest. Whatever happens, Gabrielle, please know that you are fiercely, deeply, passionately, and unconditionally loved. I will love you to the end of my days, whenever they may be._

_ Yours,_

_ Antoine_

Enjolras finished his letter, a lump in his throat, and stared at the parchment, swallowing the despair he felt. He didn't want to sound so grim, but he also wanted to leave Gabrielle with truly meaningful and heartfelt words, just in case they would be the last she ever got from him. After the ink dried, Enjolras folded the letter and handed it to Durand.

He nodded his thanks, and Durand briefly embraced him before leaving the cell. For the first time since his arrest, Enjolras felt like breaking down. His chest was tight with panic, his hands shaking from suppressed emotions. He wouldn't let himself admit defeat, however, and stared stubbornly up at the window, forcing himself to think of life outside of the prison walls.

He planned his life with Gabrielle, playing out every scene, every look, every touch, every memorable occasion. He would not rest until he was back at her side.

* * *

**Another update, yay! This chapter is the shortest one in quite a while, and I apologize for that, but it felt finished here. ****And uh, again...super sappy. Sorry about that. Hope you liked it!**

**Thanks for all of the reviews on the last chapter - I'm glad most of you are liking the new drama! I hope that continues to the end, because even after this bit ends, there's still one drama filled section left before it's over!**

**Also, I did end up trying to get tickets to see Aaron, but it was such a mess and they were gone so fast, I didn't stand a chance. BUMMER! If anyone is going, let me know, because I NEED VIDEOS. AS MANY AS YOU CAN POSSIBLY TAKE. :)**

**~A**


	22. Chapter XXII

Chapter XXII

By all outward appearances, Gabrielle seemed to be coping well. She didn't allow herself to wallow for more than the first day, and forced herself out of bed every morning. Her charitable duties didn't suffer, either, and she appeared each evening at the church as usual, though the smell of the food was almost too much for her constantly upset stomach. Even though she looked fine, her nerves were frayed, her stomach constantly churning in worry, her back ached, and a headache had settled in her right temple and hadn't gone away in days.

She was absolutely miserable. At least during the day, Gabrielle had things to occupy her time. She slept late, since she usually laid awake half the night worrying, had a visit with Durand in the afternoon, went to church to serve the nightly meal, and then had Musichetta and Joly keep her company in the evening. She was only really alone once she crawled into bed, and that was the worst time of day. As much as Enjolras' scent had tortured her the first night, now almost a week into his confinement, it was fading from his pillow, and that terrified Gabrielle. What would happen if he never returned? Would she be expected to just get rid of his things and move on with her life? Would it eventually be as if he never existed? They had really only been together so briefly, that if she were to never see him again, someday, it could all seem like nothing more than a dream.

Everything had turned into such a nightmare so quickly, sometimes she still expected to wake up and see him next to her. Her heart broke a little bit more every time she realized he wasn't there. A few days ago, Genevieve stopped by in the afternoon with a letter from Enjolras; apparently, Durand was off chasing down Martin and didn't have time for his usual update to Gabrielle. She supposed that was a good thing, until she read the letter.

Enjolras wrote beautifully, deep and profound words of love to her that made her throat constrict painfully and her heart pound against her chest. Gabrielle needed to touch him so badly it made her ache; nothing she had ever experienced had caused her such pain before. She had tried to hold herself together, but after reading the letter over twice, she had burst into tears and thrust it at Musichetta, who then burst into tears herself after reading it. He sounded like a condemned man, convinced he was going to die.

The letter was now tucked safely away in Enjolras' favorite book, high on a shelf that Gabrielle couldn't reach. She didn't want to be tempted to read it too often; if those were his last words to her, they needed to be kept safe and not ruined by her grimy hands and tears.

A week after Enjolras' arrest, Marie arrived, and Gabrielle had never been happier to see anyone in her life. Marie was calm and confident, restoring an order of peace to the house that had been missing with her son. If she was scared, she let no one know, and began to take care of Gabrielle right away. Musichetta continued to stay, as well, at Gabrielle's request, though Joly went back to the apartment.

Marie gently shook Gabrielle awake on the morning of the ninth day, quite earlier than usual, and her eyes were bright.

"Gabrielle? Monsieur Durand is here. He says he has some news."

"What kind of news?" Gabrielle muttered, still groggy. "Good or bad?"

"I think good. He doesn't seem upset. Come, let me help you."

Marie helped Gabrielle dress and fix her hair, and both women went to meet Durand in the library. Musichetta was already gone for the day.

"Good morning, Monsieur. It's been a few days since you stopped by." Gabrielle shook Durand's hand and they sat. She studied him for any signs that the news he brought was bad, but couldn't really tell one way or the other.

"I apologize for my recent absence, Gabrielle. But there are several things we need to talk about today. First of all," Durand began, "A date has been set for a trial. They are certainly wasting no time – it usually takes months, but Enjolras' date is set for three weeks from tomorrow. It seems they are certain of his guilt and don't want this to be prolonged."

"Is that good or bad?" Gabrielle asked uncertainly.

"Good, now that I have found Martin." Durand smiled confidently.

Gabrielle sighed in relief and leaned forward. "And?"

"He is a very unhappy man," Durand said thoughtfully. "Enjolras is quite good at reading people, and he sensed from the start that something was not quite right about Martin. He is correct, though I don't know what it is yet. The man is understandably reluctant to talk to me, but did not refuse to see me when I knocked on his door."

"But he didn't say anything helpful?"

"No, not exactly. But he was willing to listen, and that is something. I believe he will talk eventually. He just needs to be gently persuaded. I think he is scared, and not at all happy with what has become of his life since he was discharged from the National Guard. I think everything he has done hinges around that and I need to find out why that happened."

Marie finally spoke up. "You sound very hopeful, Monsieur Durand, but I'm having trouble seeing how this man can help my son if Martin isn't yet willing to talk, especially with his trial coming up so soon."

"Well..." Durand hesitated, then said quietly, "I do have some other witnesses. I am hesitant to use them, because what they are willing to say for Enjolras is all a complete lie. But they are willing to do it, and I may have to take them up on their offer."

Gabrielle was confused. "Who are these witnesses, Monsieur Durand?"

"Other students at the university, young men who knew Enjolras, who listened to him speak at rallies, and sometimes attended his meetings. A few of them came to me when they heard he had been arrested, wanting to know what they could do to help. Apparently, they were too scared to join the rebellion in June and have felt guilty about it since. They are willing to say that Enjolras is not the man they think he is, that he was just an ordinary student and had no part in any revolutionary ideas at all."

Gabrielle sat quietly for a moment, thinking through what Durand said. "But they would be lying in a court of law. Do they understand the risk they would be taking?"

"Yes, they do. I explained it to them very thoroughly and they are still willing to do it should the need arise. And I have a feeling it will."

Gabrielle looked at Marie, who seemed lost in thought herself. She didn't want to put anyone else in danger to save Enjolras, but at the same time, what else could they do? The only way he would be released is if the authorities truly believed they had the wrong man.

"Will their word alone be enough, even without Martin? I am assuming you want to try and convince him to lie, too?" Gabrielle surmised.

"My dear," Durand said gently, "Even_ with _Martin, I don't know if it will be enough. But it may put just enough doubt into their minds. And once that doubt hits the newspapers...well, they may want to avoid the uproar executing an innocent man may cause. But I do believe Martin could very much help us."

"Can I speak to him?" Gabrielle asked suddenly. "Perhaps I could convince him."

"Gabrielle, that may not be a good idea," Marie said, frowning. "Shouldn't we stay out of this and let those who know what they're doing do their job?"

"I can't sit idly by anymore," Gabrielle said vehemently. "If there's something I can do, I must do it. Monsieur Durand, please."

Durand gazed at her for a moment, then sighed and nodded. "Your husband has been urging me to let you help, actually. He knows you well, Gabrielle. I don't think it would be a bad thing for you to see Martin. He seems to be so conflicted, that perhaps if he sees what Enjolras would be leaving behind, he would be more inclined to help. Telling him your story might haunt him, appeal to his humanity..."

"I'll do it. When?"

"We need to give it a few days," Durand said gently. "I just spoke with him yesterday, and was quite forceful. I don't want to scare him off by sending you to him too soon. Perhaps in a few days, if you can be patient?"

Gabrielle sighed. She had been prepared to get up and flee the house that instant. "If you think that's better."

"I do. Why don't you begin to prepare what you would like to say to him, and when I next come, I can look it over? I think it is better if you go in with a plan, don't you?"

Gabrielle nodded slowly. "Yes, I suppose that's a good idea. Thank you, Monsieur, for allowing me to do this. And when you see my husband, tell him thank you, as well. It is nice to know he believes in me."

Durand smiled as he rose. "His spirits seem to be better the last few days, though he is anxious to see you." Durand turned to Marie and shook her hand. "Madame, it was nice seeing you again today. I am glad you are here to help, as well."

Marie managed a smile and nodded. "Yes, well. I will certainly be happier once this is all over and my son is back home where he belongs. Thank you for all of the work you are doing to help him, Monsieur Durand."

Gabrielle saw Durand out and then went back to the library, sitting down with a sigh across from Marie.

"Well...considering we've had no real news for a week, at least we know a little bit of what is going on now. Everything is still so uncertain, but I feel a bit more hopeful." Gabrielle reached out to squeeze Marie's hand, noticing that she looked anxious.

"Gabrielle, do you really intend to appeal to this Captain Martin?"

Gabrielle nodded, puzzled. "Of course. Why wouldn't I? I am sure that as a woman, I can appeal to his emotions much better than Durand can. If I make him feel bad enough, perhaps he can be convinced to help us."

"You don't think it will put you in any danger?"

"No. I don't see why it would. Martin isn't dangerous, and I'll only be talking to him. And I'm sure Durand will be close by, if not right there with me. _Maman, _if there is even the smallest chance it could help Antoine, why wouldn't I do it?"

Marie gazed out the window and said quietly, "You're right, of course. You know, Gabrielle, I spent over twenty-five years with my husband, and losing him still hurts every day. I don't want that pain for you. And for me...well, the only thing worse than losing my husband would be losing my child."

"You won't lose him," Gabrielle said firmly. "We have to start believing he is going to come home. If I don't, I don't think I can make it through another day."

* * *

Gabrielle was getting tired of waiting. She wanted to speak to Martin as soon as possible, but Durand kept putting it off. It was now over two weeks since Enjolras' arrest, and only about twelve days until his trial. She felt like she was running out of time. Or, more accurately, like Enjolras was running out of time.

Her appeal to Martin was prepared and edited by Durand. She just needed a chance to use it. It was temping to try and track Martin down herself, without Durand's permission. What in the world was he waiting for?

Gabrielle was so anxious, she hadn't been able to keep any food down for days. She had lost a bit of weight due to her lack of appetite and the stress she felt. Just the sight of food was too much lately.

When Gabrielle awoke one morning to the smell of breakfast cooking, she was immediately sick. It wasn't the first time the smell of food had made her vomit in the last few days. She barely made it over to the washbasin before her stomach heaved, emptying itself of its already meager contents. Gabrielle felt lightheaded and dizzy, and stood huddled over the dresser. Her body was trembling and she willed herself not to be sick again.

"Gabrielle?" Marie suddenly appeared at her side and pushed the hair back from her face. "Are you sick, dear?"

"Yes," Gabrielle mumbled. "When I smelled breakfast, it was just too much. I haven't been able to keep anything down for a while now. I've made myself sick with worry." Gabrielle reached for a towel and wiped her forehead. Her skin felt clammy. "Marie, please, open the windows, the smell is still bothering me. I don't care about the cold."

Marie searched her face for a moment, then crossed to the two windows in the room and opened them widely. Gabrielle stuck her head out the window, inhaling the fresh air. It helped a little bit and she breathed deeply, accepting the glass of water Marie handed to her.

"Have you had any other symptoms?" Marie asked, and Gabrielle thought she sounded strange. Marie's face was carefully blank.

"I suppose," Gabrielle said cautiously. "I've been a little dizzy lately, had a constant headache, and I'm exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for weeks." She took another deep breath, her head clearing a bit. "I thought I was just making myself sick, but maybe I've actually come down with something."

Marie shifted from foot to foot, studying her closely. "You look a bit different to me," Marie said quietly, and Gabrielle raised her eyebrows, feeling a bit insulted at Marie's pointing out how sick she looked.

"I know, I must look horrible...I haven't been sleeping well, no matter how tired I feel. I promise I'm trying to take care of myself, Marie."

"No, it's not that," Marie said gently, and took her arm, guiding her to the bed. "Gabrielle, dear, are you sure those are the only symptoms you've had?"

Gabrielle looked at her strangely, tilting her head. "What are you trying to ask?"

Marie's eyes drifted not so subtly to Gabrielle's breasts and she said frankly, "Gabrielle, I've wondered over the last few days because...you look..._bigger. _When I was pregnant with Antoine, that was the first thing I noticed. And they hurt a bit, too. Have you felt anything like that?"

Gabrielle froze, staring at Marie in shock. "What?"

"Please don't be afraid to tell me, Gabrielle," Marie pressed kindly. "I've wondered since I first arrived, noticing everything that was happening with you: your fatigue, your headache, you said your back hurt, the way you've been avoiding food. All of the signs were there...are you expecting a baby, darling?"

Gabrielle's mouth fell open in shock. "What?! No!"

Marie took her hand and pressed gently. "Are you certain?"

"Absolutely not! I would know if I..." Gabrielle's voice trailed off as she realized with horror that she probably wouldn't actually know. She had no idea what signs to look for. No one had ever told her. The only reason she even knew how babies came about is because of overhearing the other girls at school.

"Or...I...oh, Marie, I don't know! I have no idea! I can't be!" Her voice rose hysterically.

Marie wrapped her arms around Gabrielle's shoulders, surprised at her reaction. "Shhh, Gabrielle. It's alright! Lets think rationally. When did you bleed last? Are you supposed to start soon? That's the best way to tell."

Gabrielle closed her eyes, trying to remember. With everything that had happened, that had been the farthest thing from her mind. She thought back to the last time she remembered, and counted forward, her stomach dropping when she realized. "Oh, God...Marie. It should have been two weeks ago. I didn't...I didn't even think. I forgot, with everything happening."

Marie pulled back and looked at her evenly. Gabrielle could see in her eyes that Marie was fairly certain she was pregnant. Gabrielle found it hard to be hysterical in the face of such reassuring calm, though her hands were shaking.

"So you're feeling ill, smells are bothering you, you have a headache, are dizzy, and you've missed your cycle..."

"And my breasts do feel...different," Gabrielle admitted softly. "They've been hurting. I didn't know why, I didn't really think anything of it. I didn't know what to look for, no one has ever told me." Her eyes filled with tears. "Marie, am I pregnant?"

"I think so, my dear, but perhaps we should have a doctor examine you. They may be able to tell, depending on how far along you are."

Gabrielle closed her eyes, fighting rising waves of panic. "Marie, this can't be happening. It can't."

"It is," Marie said firmly, and helped Gabrielle stand, pulling back the covers on the bed once more. "And you are not going to panic, Gabrielle. It will do you no good. You are going to face this, and be strong, and we will figure out what to do. But we will not become hysterical. Do you understand?"

Gabrielle finally nodded, trying to take deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She felt like she was seeing through a fog. "Yes...I think so."

"Good. Now, since you're not feeling well, lets get you back into bed for a little while. Is there a particular doctor you would like to see? I know Monsieur Joly is a doctor, but being Antoine's good friend...would it be uncomfortable for you?"

Gabrielle laid back down, burrowing under the covers. She didn't know how she felt about Joly examining her, but at least she trusted him. "I suppose I don't mind. You can send for him. And thank you, Marie, for helping me."

Marie sat on the edge of the bed and held Gabrielle's hand, smiling softly. "You know I don't mind, Gabrielle. I'm happy to be here for you. Now try and go back to sleep." Marie began humming a soft tune and Gabrielle closed her eyes, refusing to think about anything but the blissful oblivion of sleep.

She awoke in a few hours to a soft knock on her bedroom door. She rose, made herself presentable, and opened it to find an awkward looking Joly on the other side.

"How are you, Gabrielle?" he asked softly, and Gabrielle opened the door to let him into the bedroom.

"I could be better," she said softly. "Did Marie tell you why you're here?"

"Yes." Joly put his things down and looked at her for a moment before speaking. "Are you sure you want me to examine you?"

"Yes. Although," she admitted, "I think I know. I had no idea before Marie said something, but now it just makes sense..."

"Well, there's nothing wrong in knowing for certain. I'll need you to lie down on the bed, Gabrielle."

Gabrielle did as Joly asked and was silent as he examined her.

"Marie said you've had several symptoms?" Joly asked.

Gabrielle ran through the list and then added, blushing, "And...I should have had my cycle at least two weeks ago. I haven't." When Joly was finished, Gabrielle sat up and looked at him anxiously. "Well?"

"I do think you're expecting, Gabrielle," he said quietly. "So I suppose congratulations are in order?" She could tell he wasn't sure whether she thought this was good or bad news.

"Under the circumstances, I don't think so," she mumbled. Gabrielle stared at the floor. "But even under normal circumstances, I wouldn't think so."

Joly frowned and looked uncomfortable, but said kindly, "Now, Gabrielle...Enjolras might say he doesn't want children, but once he finds out, I'm sure he'll feel differently."

Gabrielle rose and touched Joly's arm. "Thank you for trying to make me feel better, and for coming. Please don't say anything to anyone?"

"Of course not."

Gabrielle and Joly walked out of the bedroom to find Marie waiting in the hall. Gabrielle nodded at her in affirmation and Marie couldn't contain the happy smile that spread across her face. When she saw Gabrielle's look of distress, however, she stopped smiling. Gabrielle said goodbye to Joly and turned to face Marie.

"How can you be happy about this?" she asked incredulously. "My husband is in prison and I am expecting a baby that _he will not want."_ Gabrielle bit her lip, blinking back tears. She had voiced what was really bothering her, and it made the fear seem even bigger and more significant. "He doesn't want children. He's told me so. And he isn't even here...what if...what if I have to do this on my own?" Gabrielle asked fearfully.

Marie reached out and embraced Gabrielle, holding her tightly. "First of all, Gabrielle, Antoine loves you. He will continue to love you. I know he said he doesn't want children, but there is absolutely nothing he can do about this now. He will love your child. It isn't in his nature to run from things he is scared of, and that is all his reluctance is – fear."

"Do you really think so?" Gabrielle whispered.

"Yes, I really think so," Marie said quietly. "And, most importantly, you _will not_ do this on your own. Antoine will be here with you in just a few weeks. And we can keep this quiet until then, if you wish. I'm afraid finding this out now would only cause him more pain."

Gabrielle nodded. "Of course. I don't think he should know..."

"Do you know when...well, when it happened?" Marie asked curiously.

Gabrielle blushed. She and Enjolras had been together almost every day, sometimes more than once. She supposed that would be over, too, even if they did manage to get him out of prison. That thought alone almost killed her; she had never felt closer to anyone than when they were making love. Would he even want her now, or find her attractive?

"I'm really not sure. It must have been at least two weeks ago. More, really...maybe three or four? Could it be even more than that?" Gabrielle wondered. She really wasn't sure how all of this worked and felt quite foolish.

"Yes, it could be. Well, it's soon enough that you won't be able to tell for a while. You can keep it a secret as long as you need to, Gabrielle, and tell Antoine _after _he comes home."

Gabrielle liked that plan; it meant she could spend a little longer in denial if she needed to.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Gabrielle felt listless. She had accepted that she was pregnant. She knew it...yet she didn't feel it. She had no connection to the growing life inside of her, and could barely even comprehend that it was really there at all. She told Musichetta that evening, since Joly knew, and 'Chetta had an appropriately horrified reaction. She knew how both Gabrielle and Enjolras felt about having children, and understood that even on top of that, the timing couldn't possibly be worse. It made Gabrielle feel better to know it scared Musichetta, too, like she wasn't a horrible person for feeling absolutely terrified. Musichetta didn't judge her for not being happy, and Gabrielle was unbelievably grateful.

She didn't know how she could possibly face Cosette any time soon and see her glowing countenance. It would be like torture.

The next day, however, Durand stopped by with good news, which Gabrielle desperately needed. He wanted her to talk to Martin as soon as possible. He knew the man was home, after disappearing for quite some time, and he didn't want Martin to get away again.

Gabrielle prepared herself as best she could. She knew what she needed to say, and she knew that now, more than ever, she needed Enjolras by her side. She would do whatever it took.

* * *

**So, yeah. I did that there. Hope you all don't hate me or find it super cliche. I'd love to know what you lurkers and followers that aren't reviewing think, too - I know you're out there! I see the numbers! :)**

**I realized last night that this story has literally taken over my life. I was in a friend's wedding, singing "At Last" for the first dance, and planning the next chapter in my head as that was all going on. HA That's so pathetic!**

**Also, I'm really close to 200 reviews. PLEASE review and get me there. I've only had one other story hit that mark before and it feels really cool! Thanks for reading and hope you liked it. :)**

**~A**


	23. Chapter XXIII

Chapter XXIII

Gabrielle and Durand sat at a little outdoor café, meeting once more before Gabrielle went to confront Captain Martin.

"I found out why he was discharged," Durand said after they had settled down, Gabrielle sipping bland tea and Durand eating a small lunch. "I'm not sure whether or not you should mention it, because it could be a very sore subject for him. But, this also proves what Enjolras has been saying all along, that he thinks Martin feels remorse for a lot of things. Martin was trying to get Philip Roux released from prison, speaking out against what happened that day to Roux's wife. The National Guard obviously didn't like it very much and let him go."

"That's horrible," Gabrielle said, feeling an unexpected surge of sympathy for Martin. "And it shows that Martin is capable of doing the right thing. You don't think I should say anything about it to him?"

Durand sighed and studied Gabrielle carefully, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I don't know. I hate to throw you into a situation without guidance, Gabrielle, but I think you will have to judge this on your own. It will depend on what kind of feeling you get from Martin, if you think he is responding favorably to you or not. Are you comfortable with that?"

"Yes," Gabrielle said. "I'm not nervous, Monsieur Durand. I never have been. He's just a man, one who has been through quite a lot. I can handle that, especially as he doesn't seem like a particularly _bad _man. Just a soldier who was trying to do his job."

"I don't have to tell you how important this is."

"No, Monsieur, you certainly don't."

Gabrielle sipped her tea and turned her face to the street, watching the people on the sidewalk scurry by. She wondered about their lives: where they were going, whether they lived in Paris or were just visiting, whether they had families or secret lovers, whether they were happy. Whether they had children, she mused, her hand drifting to rest on her still flat stomach. Everyone had a story. She would need to find the heart of Martin's today, or else her child would grow up fatherless.

Her mind had wandered to dark places since discovering her pregnancy; she had gone so far as to make the decision to not tell Enjolras about the baby at all if the verdict didn't fall in his favor. She didn't want him to go to his grave with the knowledge that he was leaving behind a pregnant and terrified wife. It would make things a million times worse for him.

And, of course, things couldn't possibly get any worse than that for her. She had timidly asked Musichetta the night before, once Marie had gone to bed, if there was any way to safely end her pregnancy, but Musichetta had balked. She swore up and down that there _was no safe way_ to do such a thing, and though she understood why Gabrielle asked, she wouldn't stay quiet about it if Gabrielle tried to take that path.

Musichetta made her swear up and down that she wouldn't do anything so drastic, and Gabrielle promised, surprised at how pale Musichetta's face had grown and how tightly she gripped her hand. Gabrielle immediately felt guilty for asking, and didn't really know if she could ever go through with something like that, anyway. She felt like she wasn't really in her right mind. The only coherent, and horrifying thought she kept having was, _I'm pregnant. I'm going to have a baby..._

It seemed like a nightmare.

"Are you ready?" Durand asked as he finished his lunch and stood, shaking Gabrielle out of her thoughts.

Gabrielle nodded and took his arm before setting off down the street. As far as they knew, Martin was at home, and though it wasn't really proper for Gabrielle to be alone with him in his apartment, she was long past caring about such trivial things. Durand would wait outside on the street while they talked. That is, if Martin let her in at all.

When they reached the building, Gabrielle gave Durand a reassuring smile and headed up the stairs, forcing herself to breathe deeply and stay calm. He was just a man. And she needed her wits about her to read him well and do what needed to be done. She knocked softly on Martin's door and stood back to wait.

After a moment, she heard shuffling footsteps on the other side and the door opened, revealing a very young man with dark hair and a carefully groomed mustache. He was dressed nicely, and appeared a gentleman.

"_Bonjour," _Gabrielle said politely. "Are you Captain Martin?"

"I am," Martin said curiously. "I don't believe we have met, Mademoiselle?"

"No, we haven't." Gabrielle smiled and held out her hand. "But I do feel a bit like I know you, Monsieur. My name is Gabrielle Enjolras. I think you're distantly acquainted with my husband, Antoine?"

Martin reluctantly took her hand, and it was apparent he recognized Enjolras' name. His eyes became wary and immediately shifted to the wall just above Gabrielle's shoulder, as if he was afraid or ashamed to look at her directly. "Oh...yes. I..." he stumbled, and Gabrielle could tell he didn't know what to say.

"Monsieur, may I please speak with you?" Gabrielle pleaded softly. "It is so important to me that we talk. I know that you are a good and decent man, even my husband has been saying so. Please, may I come in so we can talk frankly?" She spoke quietly, being careful to keep her tone even and nonthreatening.

Martin hesitated, but then nodded stiffly, opening the door wider and allowing Gabrielle to enter. He seemed like the kind of man to not refuse a lady, she thought, and quickly took in his apartment – it was small and sparsely furnished, but clean and orderly, much like she imagined a soldier's quarter's would be. Everything seemed to have and be in it's proper place.

"Thank you for agreeing to speak to me," Gabrielle said. She accepted a seat at the small table Martin offered and watched him sit across from her. He still wouldn't meet her eyes, and Gabrielle knew most of this conversation would probably fall on her to carry.

"Like I said before, Monsieur Enjolras is my husband," Gabrielle said quietly. "And I'm sure you can imagine how much I miss him. It is torture being separated for so long. May I be frank, Captain Martin, and ask why you decided to turn him in?"

Martin glanced at her, his jaw tightening. He drummed his fingers on the table top and said hesitantly, "I thought...I thought turning him in might cause them to re-instate my place with the National Guard."

"Did it?" Gabrielle wondered, and Martin shook his head. "I'm sorry for that then. Monsieur Durand, the other man you spoke to...he told me why you were discharged. It seems horribly unfair. You were trying to do the right and honorable thing..."

Martin suddenly met her eyes and said directly, "Madame, I shot your husband in June. I fully intended to kill him. And now he is in prison because of me. There is absolutely no way you have any sympathy at all for me. Tell me what you want."

Gabrielle was startled, but maintained her composure. "Actually," she said confidently, "I do have quite a bit of sympathy for you, Monsieur, whether you believe so or not. You are a soldier – you were doing your job at the barricade. And just so you know, you may have _shot_ my husband, but you _most definitely_ killed my brother."

Martin gaped, his mouth hanging open. He hadn't been expecting that, Gabrielle could see.

"I...I'm sorry, Madame, for your loss," he finally muttered, his cheeks turning an uncomfortable shade of red.

"Thank you," Gabrielle said calmly. "But my brother died fighting for what he believed in. I don't think he regretted it. And like I said, you were only doing your job. Do you regret what you had to do?"

Martin looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. Gabrielle felt confident – she was keeping him on his toes, keeping him talking as much as she could. "I did not enjoy killing those men, if that is what you are asking," Martin admitted. "It was a complete waste of life. At the end, they knew they were going to die. I gave them the chance to give themselves up, get away...I've never understood why they didn't take it. I didn't want to kill them."

"No," Gabrielle whispered. "My husband knew that. He told me he saw the remorse in your eyes. He thinks you are a good man at heart."

Martin looked at Gabrielle and she saw that his eyes had turned anguished. "You can't possibly speak the truth, Madame. I have condemned your husband to death. I may as well have killed him back in June. There is no way he wishes anything but a horrible and painful death for me."

Gabrielle shook her head, sitting forward and locking eyes with Martin. "You are wrong. You don't know my husband. He doesn't wish ill on you at all. He feels empathy – he didn't enjoy killing, either, you see. Even if his fortune had been reversed and he and his friends would have won that day, he still would have felt no pleasure in killing you or your fellow soldiers. That is why he took a risk and came to see you himself about his client, Philip Roux. He believed he would get through to you, that you could maybe meet in the middle..."

"And instead I finished what I started." Martin sounded bitter.

"This isn't over yet," Gabrielle persisted. "You could still be the reason that my husband is _released _from prison, Captain Martin. You could still help him."

"Why?" Martin asked. "Just because I don't enjoy killing, Madame Enjolras, doesn't mean I am willing to help him. He _did _lead that rebellion, and he _is _the reason so many men died that night. Does he not deserve his just punishment?"

_No! _Gabrielle screamed inside her head, but maintained an outward composure, though her knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the chair. Instead of sounding angry like she felt, she forced her voice to sound sad and pitiful.

"I cannot live without my husband, Captain Martin. Please."

Martin shook his head and looked away from her, staring stubbornly at the floor.

"Please, Monsieur," Gabrielle said again, softer. "You don't understand...I love him. I have never loved anyone or anything like I love him. I have no family, no one else...please, please, say that you will help."

"And what would I do?" Martin asked. "I am one man, powerless. And I've already told them who he is."

"You can say you were wrong! You can say they have the wrong man, that you made a mistake in identifying him. Monsieur Durand has other witnesses who are going to say the same thing, that my husband has never had anything to do with the rebellion. You won't be the only one."

Martin scoffed. "And if I were to say such a thing? I would look like an even bigger fool than I already am."

Gabrielle was beginning to feel desperate, and felt like she was losing control. She hadn't let herself think past the actual conversation, about what would happen if Martin didn't agree to testify in Enjolras' favor.

"I am sorry, Madame, I really am," Martin said apologetically. "I am sorry for the pain that my actions caused. You seem like a lovely young woman and I am sure that your husband is not a bad man. But he is guilty. I cannot further damage what has become of my life by lying to set a guilty man free."

Gabrielle chewed her lip for a moment, then reached out and grasped Martin's hands, startling him. "Do you want me to beg, Monsieur? I will get down on my knees. I will do _anything._ Please. I _cannot _go on without my husband." Gabrielle's eyes filled with tears and Martin looked distinctly uncomfortable, squirming a bit in his seat.

"Madame..." he began remorsefully, but Gabrielle interrupted.

"I am expecting a child," Gabrielle said quietly as a few tears began to slip down her cheeks. "Monsieur, I am expecting a child! I can't raise a child alone. I can't do it without my husband...please, _please_, Monsieur. Do not make my baby grow up without a father! I lived that life, I lost both of my parents when I was young. I don't want that for my child!"

She was growing hysterical, and realized with astounding clarity that everything she said was true. Whether she was happy about this baby or not, it was coming, it was her new reality, and she was going to do her damnedest to be a good mother. But, no matter what, she couldn't make up for the absence of her baby's father.

Martin froze for a moment, finally meeting her eyes again, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his handkerchief. "Please don't cry, Madame..." He awkwardly patted her hand and she accepted the handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes.

"Please," she murmured again. "Please help us. I don't know what I'll do if..." her voice trailed off despondently and she stared at the table. She was putting on quite a show, she knew – if only it were a true performance, on a stage, and not her real life.

Martin didn't say anything, and Gabrielle suddenly burst out, "We will pay you, Monsieur. Enough money for you to leave Paris and go anywhere you want. Enough to start over completely and begin a new life. You can forget everything bad that has happened since June. Please, just name your price."

Martin was looking more intrigued, she noticed, and he cleared his throat. "Madame, I will help you. I will say whatever needs to be said. And I would be a fool to turn down your money, as I really don't have any of my own. And starting over does sound tempting."

Gabrielle started, her heart pounding. Had he really just said he would help? So abruptly? She had started to think that she wouldn't be able to convince him.

"Oh, Monsieur! Thank you! I don't know how to tell you what this means to me, I really don't..."

Martin managed a tight smile and nodded. "I think I can tell, Madame. Now, what is it exactly you wish me to do? And when?"

Gabrielle composed herself enough to tell Martin that Durand was waiting downstairs, and Martin agreed to speak with him then. Gabrielle rose and couldn't stop herself from gratefully embracing Martin. She was an emotional wreck. What in the world was wrong with her? She was usually remarkably cool and composed.

Martin walked downstairs with her to meet Durand, and Gabrielle left the two men together. She walked home slowly, hope spreading like fire through her veins.

* * *

On her way home, she found herself in front of Monsieur Gillenormand's house. Maybe she had come there on unconsciously, she didn't know, but either way, Gabrielle cautiously knocked on the door. It was the first time she would see Cosette since she discovered she was pregnant, and she felt strangely nervous. It was like seeing her very near future.

A servant opened the door and ushered Gabrielle in. Cosette was resting on the sofa, her feet propped up in front of her. Gabrielle forced a smile and leaned down to hug her, feeling a stab of jealousy at Cosette's happy smile.

"Gabrielle! I'm so happy to see you. How are you, darling? Are you holding up alright? Musichetta and Enjolras' mother are still there to take care of you, aren't they?" Cosette tugged on Gabrielle's hand and drew her down to the sofa next to her.

"Yes, they are. I'm very glad to not be alone," Gabrielle admitted. Her eyes drifted to Cosette's ever expanding stomach and she asked quietly, "How are you? The baby is due in a few weeks, isn't it?"

Cosette nodded, her hands drifting to her stomach. "Yes. The doctor thinks it could really be any time. I'm not to be on my feet too much until the baby decides to make its appearance."

"Well, I'm sure you'll be quite busy once it does. Enjoy your rest now." Gabrielle glanced away and took a deep breath. She felt a rising sense of panic, thinking about what was going to soon happen to her body. "Are you uncomfortable?" she wondered.

"Oh, a bit," Cosette admitted. "But it's really not that bad. I have plenty of people around to take care of me. And Marius is still wonderful." Cosette winced at the mention of her husband, and Gabrielle smiled reassuringly.

"It's alright, Cosette. Just because I don't have Enjolras right now doesn't mean you have to pretend you're unhappy. This _should _be a happy time for you." Gabrielle blinked, tears stinging her eyes, and Cosette reached out to hold her hand.

"Oh, Gabrielle, I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do? I know I can't do much, but please...anything. I want to help you."

Gabrielle shook her head sadly. "There's really nothing anyone can do, Cosette. But I did come with some news..." She told Cosette about her meeting with Martin and how hopeful she was that his testimony would be exactly what they needed.

Cosette beamed and squeezed her hand. "Enjolras will be home in no time, I know it. I'm sure he's as anxious as you are. And then, soon, all of this will fade and be nothing more than a distant memory. You'll be even happier than you were before."

Gabrielle forced a smile and nodded, her hand unconsciously drifting to her own stomach. "Yes...I hope so."

Gabrielle distracted Cosette with more questions about the baby, and Cosette finally said somewhat timidly, "Gabrielle, I've been meaning to ask you...and, perhaps you won't want to because of everything, and I know you're busy, but, I've been thinking..."

Gabrielle raised her eyebrows curiously. It wasn't like Cosette to be nervous. "What is it, Cosette? You can ask me anything."

Cosette's eyes shined and she asked eagerly, "Will you be there with me when the baby is born? You see, I just don't really have anyone else to ask, and you've been such a good friend. I would feel so reassured to have you there with me. But you can say no! I won't be offended."

Gabrielle gaped. That was the last thing she had expected.

_Oh God, how can I make it through that?_ she thought, horrified. But, this was Cosette. And it was unbelievably sweet of her to ask, really. Under normal circumstances, Gabrielle would have been incredibly touched; indeed, she still was. It was just her own selfish reasons and fear that made her hesitate. Finally, she said softly, "Of course, Cosette. I would be happy to be there with you. I'm touched you feel that way."

"Of course I do!" Cosette smiled. "Marius will be a nervous wreck waiting, and it will be a comfort to him to know you're with me, too. And I'm sure Enjolras will be home by then, as well! He can keep poor Marius company." Cosette giggled, thinking of how anxious her husband already was anticipating the birth of their child. Gabrielle had no doubt he would be an absolute wreck when it actually happened. But the thought of Enjolras there...it actually made her feel physically sick. Would he know about his own child by then? she wondered.

Or, was she jumping too far ahead in the first place? She had to get him out of prison first.

* * *

Enjolras stared up at the low ceiling of his cell. How he longed for a bath and a shave; he was absolutely filthy, and he had never let more than a few days go by without shaving before. His face was itchy and hot under several week's worth of beard, and he hated it. His hair felt greasy and grimy to the touch, too, and he was constantly having to push it back out of his face, where it fell in tangled curls. He needed to get out of this hell hole.

His cell door suddenly began creaking open and Enjolras jumped, sitting up straight on the bed. Durand entered, his face a mask of curious calm at first, but he grinned and practically did a little jig when he caught sight of Enjolras.

"Durand?" Enjolras asked. "What are you doing back here today?"

Durand rang his hand jovially and said, "Enjolras. Your wife is a marvel. Second only to mine, I believe. She's done it, man."

Enjolras' mouth quirked up in a smile. "What has she done?"

"She talked to Martin today. And I don't know _what _she said, but he is more than willing to help us. Well, I do know she offered him money, too, but..." Durand shrugged. "That's neither here nor there."

"What did he say?" Enjolras asked eagerly.

"He's going to help, of course. Gabrielle was apparently very persuasive, he was quite taken with her. Whatever she said got to him."

"That's my girl." Enjolras smiled, wishing he could kiss her right then and there. The things he would do to her once he was home...He blinked. Thinking like that right now was not a good idea. He focused on Durand again and asked, "So what can I expect?"

Durand went into the details and Enjolras listened intently, nodding every once in a while to show he was still focused and paying attention. By the time their conversation was done, Enjolras felt confident that he at least had a little bit of a chance now. Where things had seemed incredibly bleak before, now the sun shined a bit.

"And..." Durand said hesitantly, "I wasn't going to tell you this, but. Well." He reached into his bag and pulled out a newspaper, handing it to Enjolras. Sprawled across the top were the words _The Rupublican_; Marius and Joly must have settled on a proper name for the paper without him. He didn't really mind, since they were shouldering most of the responsibility so far. He balked when he noticed the headline, however, and stared at Durand in shock.

"_Innocent man arrested for June Rebellion?!"_ he hissed. "What are they doing, broadcasting this? This could get them in trouble!"

Durand cleared his throat and looked around the cell. "Yes, well. I'm afraid I may have put the idea into their heads to create some attention before the trial. If the public thinks you innocent before it even begins, you may have more of a chance. And since Marius and Joly are quite clear in that article that they _were _involved in the rebellion, their claiming that this man they have arrested as their leader was _not_ holds quite a bit of credibility."

Enjolras glared at the paper, balling it up in his fist. "This is utter foolishness. They shouldn't have done this. Pseudonyms or not, they could still be found out! I can't believe you put this idea into their heads!"

"It's done now, nevertheless. And it may work in your favor."

"I can't have anyone else getting hurt because of me!" Enjolras exclaimed, and threw the paper at Durand's feet. "Tell them _no more._ They are not to do anything else, I forbid it." Enjolras took a deep breath, glaring at Durand, and the older man held up a placating hand.

"Yes, yes...I will tell them. They only wanted to help, Enjolras, you can't blame them for that. Their hearts are in the right place."

"And their heads in the clouds, obviously, as is yours."

Durand picked up the crumpled newspaper and smoothed it out, laying it on Enjolras' small table. "You may want to keep that," he said calmly. "Now, is there anything else you need from me before I go? Any messages for Gabrielle?"

Enjolras was silent, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. "Tell her thank you. I love her." His eyes met Durand's finally, and an icy fire burned in their depths. "Tell her not to give up on me yet."

Durand smiled and clapped him on the back. "That is an impossibility, my friend. I will see you tomorrow."

Durand retreated from the cell and Enjolras was left alone once more. He took a deep breath, wishing he could yell and berate both Marius and Joly for what they'd done. They were being careful, but nothing was guaranteed, and if his remaining friends were to be discovered, Enjolras knew he would wish he was dead once and for all. He couldn't deal with more guilt of that nature. It was bad enough being stuck here by himself, missing his friends, missing his wife, missing his whole life.

But Gabrielle had come through for him, _again._ Would she ever cease to amaze him? He didn't think so. _Martin probably took one look at her and melted into a puddle at her feet_, he thought, suddenly amused. He wondered what she had said to him – if she had played the doting wife, or been angry and forceful. Maybe a combination of both. Whatever she had done, it worked, and that was all that mattered.

Enjolras laid back down on his uncomfortable cot and closed his eyes, imagining it was his own bed he was resting on, with Gabrielle next to him.

* * *

**And another update. Seriously, I can't stop writing. I actually just booked a beachfront condo for four days next week (spring break, yay!) and I'm hoping to finish up the story there. CRAZY, Y'ALL, HOW CLOSE THE END IS.**

**And THANK YOU so much for the reviews! You are ALL amazing and awesome and incredible and COOL AS F***. I appreciate the time and effort it actually takes to write a review and I can't thank you enough. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. :)**

**~Aimee**

**BTW, baby names? I don't know what to name this Enjolras kid. I can never have children, they will be nameless. Thing 1 and Thing 2 and so forth...and now I have to come up with FRENCH names? What the hell?**


	24. Chapter XXIV

Chapter XXIV

The next week passed in a blur as Enjolras' trial swiftly approached. Martin hadn't backed out on them yet, and was well rehearsed in his statements. He and Durand met every day to prepare, and Gabrielle tagged along when she felt well enough. It was strange to come to know Martin, to look into the eyes of the person who had killed her brother and shot her husband, and see only a troubled and uncertain man looking back at her. She was prepared to hand over the money that would help him start a new life as soon as the trial was over, whatever the outcome may be. Though she by no means liked the man, she was grateful for his help.

Durand showed a confident face to Gabrielle and already boasted that there was no way Enjolras would be found guilty, considering he had the best lawyer in all of Paris, but she wondered if it was just an act for her benefit. She was so sick for most of the week that she could barely make it out of bed, and wasn't sure if it was due to her pregnancy or the constant worry that prevented her from sleeping soundly every night. She supposed the one good thing about all of this was that it was keeping her mind off of the life growing inside of her. Sometimes, she went a whole day without even remembering she was pregnant. And when the thought did invade her mind again, it came as less and less of a shock.

When Durand told Gabrielle that Enjolras begged her not to go to the trial, she wasn't surprised. It was understandable why he didn't want her there, so she told Durand that she wouldn't go to save her husband the worry.

But she also thought that Enjolras should know her well enough by now to expect her there, anyway. Marie, Joly, Musichetta, and Marius accompanied her, and Gabrielle was reassured by their presence at her side as they ascended the stairs to the balcony. They sat in the very last row in the courtroom, with a perfect view of the proceedings below. She hoped Enjolras wouldn't see them tucked away in the eaves, hidden behind so many other people. Their presence would probably prove a distraction for him, and that was the last thing she wanted.

Musichetta took her hand as Durand entered the courtroom and Gabrielle's hand flew to her mouth to stifle a cry as Enjolras came into view behind him, his wrists and ankles shackled. His clothes were filthy, his curls long and greasy and hanging limp down his neck. She had never seen Enjolras with more than a few days scruff on his face, and it was shocking to see the beard that had grown in the last few weeks. An officer led Enjolras to Durand's side and deposited him there. Gabrielle turned to look at Musichetta, horrified. Her husband looked like a different man.

Musichetta whispered reassuringly, "It's alright. He's fine, Gabrielle. He's going to be just fine. He isn't hurt in any way."

Gabrielle couldn't bear to watch and closed her eyes, one hand gripping Musichetta and one tangled in the fabric of her dress. As the trial began, everything seemed to float to her ears through a filter. Sounds were distant and hazy, and the air grew stifling sitting so high above the floor. It wasn't until she heard Enjolras' voice break through, hours later, that reality once again set in. Gabrielle's eyes flew open to see her husband standing before the judge. Durand asked question after question about the barricade, his beliefs, his whereabouts on June 5th, and his friends, and Enjolras responded in his usual commanding and confident tone, though with a touch of desperation. He was a good actor, Gabrielle noticed, and seemed suitably distraught for a supposedly wrongly accused man.

Gabrielle's heart ached as Enjolras denied having any involvement in the June rebellion. There was clear disdain in his voice as he proclaimed his innocence, and while it made his words seem more convincing to the judge, Gabrielle knew that his condemnation was really for himself, for saying something so deeply untrue. There was nothing he detested more than a lie, than an individual denying their own truth, yet here he was doing exactly that. She knew what it took for him to lie, and she had never been more impressed with his strength. Durand finished his questions and dismissed Enjolras, addressing the judge passionately.

As he turned to walk back to his seat, Enjolras' eyes drifted upward and immediately met Gabrielle's, as if he had known she was there all the time and had sensed her presence. His face showed no surprise as their gazes connected, but she saw his hands clench into fists at his sides. His eyes blazed with an icy fire and he nodded stiffly, holding her captivated in his sight until he finally turned and sat back down to face the judge, effectively breaking the spell.

Gabrielle clearly read his message. Enjolras lied not for his own benefit, but for hers. He wanted to live, but only because of the life they were building together. Alone, Enjolras would have gladly accepted execution if it meant not having to declare his allegiance to their sham of a king and forsake everything he held so dear. His _Patria _and his friends were all Enjolras had before he knew Gabrielle, and in the aftermath of the barricade, it seemed like he had tragically lost both. Gabrielle could tell by how much his lies pained him that he had not lost faith in his passionate beliefs, however, and it both thrilled and terrified her.

Everyone looked at Gabrielle anxiously as she slowly let out the breath she was holding. She forced a small smile and whispered, "He did well, didn't he?"

"Very," Marius said reassuringly. "He sounded very convincing to me."

Gabrielle became anxious again as Martin was called as the next witness. It was so hot in the room that her mouth felt parched and sweat beaded on her brow. Her stomach was in knots as Martin spoke, and though the man looked nervous, he never faltered from what he rehearsed. By the time he was done speaking, even Gabrielle doubted Enjolras had been at the barricade. There was absolutely nothing concrete tying her husband there.

It was hard to concentrate on what was going on, however, when she felt so miserably hot. It was hard to breathe, and she closed her eyes again, leaning her head back. Her stomach turned unpleasantly and she was afraid she was going to be sick right there in the courtroom.

"Gabrielle? Are you alright?" Musichetta whispered. Gabrielle could hear the concern in her voice.

"I need to get out of here. It's so hot," she mumbled, and she felt Joly firmly take her arm and pull her up. Gabrielle leaned on him as they descended the stairs. Everything spun dizzily, and her legs shook as they finally made it outside. There was a small park across the street, and Joly deposited her on the first bench they came to.

He grabbed her wrist and tutted. "Your heart is racing. How do you feel?"

"A little better now that we're out of there," she said quietly. "But I still feel like I may be sick..."

"Do you feel anything else? Are you cramping at all, does your stomach hurt? Do you think anything is seriously wrong?"

"No. It was just hot in there and I was nervous. I'm _fine_, Joly, really. I've been like this for weeks now. I just need to sit here for a minute."

Musichetta sat and took out her fan, sending a soft breeze at Gabrielle. "It _was_ hot up there. I'm sure you and the baby are fine, Gabrielle, just anxious."

"This kind of stress really isn't good for you in your condition, Gabrielle. You must make sure to take care of yourself for the baby's sake," Joly admonished.

Gabrielle opened her eyes and glared at him. "Don't talk about it, Joly, please. There's really nothing I can do right now to _avoid _stress, as you should well know."

He sighed and looked at the ground for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "I'm sorry, Gabrielle. I just mean that I know Enjolras wouldn't want something to happen to you, or to your child. I know this is hard, though, and you're doing remarkably well."

Gabrielle didn't speak for a few minutes and gradually felt her body return to a somewhat normal state. "We need to go back in. I'm sure the trial is almost over." She stood, but froze when she noticed people pouring out of the courthouse across the street. Apparently, the judge had made his decision.

"Marius!" Joly yelled as he spotted his friend looking about for them on the sidewalk. Marius turned his head and noticed them across the street. He set off at a run, a wild grin spread across his face. Gabrielle's heart leaped.

"He's innocent! The judge says he's innocent! He's going to be released immediately!"

Gabrielle let out a strangled cry and covered her face, sinking back down to the bench. Relief rushed through her, tears soaking the handkerchief Marius hastily handed her. Musichetta squealed and wrapped her arms around Gabrielle, exclaiming, "I knew it! See, there was nothing to worry about! He's coming home, darling!"

Gabrielle was too overwhelmed to speak, and cried on Musichetta's shoulder. When she finally calmed down enough to pull away, she noticed Marie had also found her way outside to them. Gabrielle rose and tightly embraced her, noticing that she looked as if she had cried a bit herself.

"When is he coming home?" Gabrielle asked Marius.

"Today. Durand will bring him soon, once everything is settled. But it is definitely happening."

Gabrielle felt like she was floating on air the entire way home.

* * *

Marie took charge as soon as they arrived, helping prepare for her son's return. It seemed Sophie had been counting on his release, as well, and she already had quite a feast prepared. Gabrielle was almost delirious with happiness, and blindly did whatever Marie asked, counting the seconds until she would see Enjolras again.

"Antoine is absolutely filthy, I almost cried just at the sight of him today. We'll just burn his clothes, there's no use trying to save them. But he'll need a bath – or several – before I even allow him in this house or near you." Marie eyed Gabrielle, rushing through the hall and into the back garden, and said firmly, "Don't touch him before he's bathed, Gabrielle! You're pregnant, there's no telling what kind of filth he's carrying on him from that place..."

Gabrielle reluctantly agreed, and went to gather Enjolras' razor and shaving mirror from the bedroom. His beard was hideous. She grabbed a pair of scissors, too; there was no way he wasn't getting a haircut today. She went outside and laughed when she saw that Sophie and Marie had dragged a tub into the middle of the yard. Apparently, Marie was serious about not allowing him in the house in his current state, not even to bathe. Sophie was pouring water in the old tin tub already, Marie laying out soap and clean clothes for Enjolras to change into. Gabrielle put the things she'd gathered next to them and took a deep breath. Any moment now and he would be home. The anticipation was killing her.

Marie went back into the house and Gabrielle soon heard her affectionate shriek. "Out! Out, through the back! I love you and I am overjoyed you're home, but OUT!"

"Where's Gabrielle?" she heard Enjolras ask as he neared the door. It literally took her breath away, hearing his voice so close to her. She wanted to run into his arms and never let go.

Enjolras soon appeared at back door and Gabrielle froze at the sight, her breath hitching in her chest. Even in his decidedly unattractive state, he was still the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Their eyes locked and Gabrielle tentatively smiled. Tears immediately poured down her cheeks, and she couldn't have stopped them if she tried. He took a few steps toward her before Marie grabbed his arm and started barking orders. "You can kiss her later, but you're not touching her, or anything else, as you are. Get those clothes off and yourself into this tub."

Enjolras gave Gabrielle an apologetic smile before he obeyed his mother. Sophie went back into the house, looking at the ground as Enjolras stripped his soiled clothes from his body. He glanced at Marie, raising his eyebrows, and she rolled her eyes.

"This is no time for modesty, Antoine. I'm your mother. Honestly."

"Fine, fine..." he mumbled, and gratefully peeled the rest of his clothes off before sinking down into the water. Gabrielle noticed how much thinner he looked, though he still maintained his muscular physique. Sophie's cooking would get him back to his former weight in no time. Gabrielle lowered herself onto the soft grass next to the tub, watching Enjolras carefully. She just needed to be near him, needed to hear his voice.

Marie took the clothes inside to burn and let the young couple be alone.

Gabrielle actually felt nervous. "How are you?" she asked quietly, resting her hand on the edge of the tub near his arm. He reached out and tenderly brushed his fingertips against hers and she almost gasped at the jolt of electricity she felt.

"I'm fine, now that I'm home with you. Are you alright?" He studied her, his eyes bright with feeling.

"I'm fine..." Gabrielle took a deep breath and shook her head. She couldn't really find a way to tell him how she felt. "But you're absolutely filthy, my love."

"I'm aware. Can we remedy this situation so I can properly greet you?" He smiled, though Gabrielle still sensed a bit of sadness in his expression.

"Please." She took the soap and rose to her knees, reaching into the water to gently wash Enjolras' back and shoulders. He sighed at the feel of her hands on him and closed his eyes, letting her wash his hair, as well. He leaned into her touch and Gabrielle couldn't resist running one hand down his chest, just for a moment, just to make sure he was really there, solid in front of her. His body shuddered.

When she deemed him properly clean, after changing the water twice, Enjolras stood and dried himself off. He changed into fresh clothes with a deep sigh of appreciation, then grabbed his shaving things and set to work on the several weeks worth of beard that had grown. It was soon gone, too, and Gabrielle smiled as he turned to look at her.

"Now you look more like yourself," she whispered. Her stomach fluttered as he looked at her, his eyes stormy and passionate. Enjolras slowly held out his hand and Gabrielle placed her palm against his, letting him tenderly draw her towards him.

Enjolras gripped her fingers tightly, looping his other arm around her waist. She pressed herself against his chest and placed her free hand over his heart.

"I thought that I might never see you again," Enjolras said sadly. He brushed his lips against her forehead and Gabrielle closed her eyes, more tears beginning to fall. "This is the second time you've saved my life, Gabrielle."

"I hope I don't need to make a habit of it. It's been absolutely horrible without you. I missed you so much..." Enjolras pressed his lips against hers and cut off the rest of her words.

Gabrielle's whole body tingled as his hands tangled in her hair. His kiss was searing and hot, and turned from gentle to desperate in a matter of seconds. It was like the first time they kissed all over again; every nerve in her body was on fire and hyper aware of his closeness. Everywhere his fingers touched left a trail of sparks on her skin. Enjolras put his hand on the back of her neck and tilted her head, moving his lips just below her ear. She moaned, squeezing her eyes shut. Why had she agreed to having a celebration dinner with their friends? She wanted him all to herself...

Enjolras moved his mouth lower, frantically kissing every bit of exposed skin her dress allowed, his hands gripping her waist and hips. She clung to his shoulders as he managed to slip her dress from her shoulder, gently caressing the exposed skin. She grabbed his face and kissed him again, her tongue flicking out to explore his mouth.

He kissed her hard and desperately, holding her tightly against his chest, and when she finally pulled away after several minutes, her lips felt bruised. Her breath came in little gasps and everything spun dizzily. It was a good dizzy this time, though, and she hoped the feeling she got from kissing him would never go away. Gabrielle tilted her head back and closed her eyes, taking deep gulps of fresh air. She soon felt his lips at her neck again, only gentle and feather-light this time.

"I love you, Gabrielle."

"I love you, too..." More unbidden tears came, and she buried her face in his chest, cursing her out of control emotions. One minute she was happy, the next sad, the next back to happy. Marie had reassured her that was what having babies did to women, but she hated it. "Don't ever leave me again," she sobbed. "It was horrible."

"I won't. I promise." She could hear the sadness in his voice and feel it as he stroked her hair, gently rubbing her back in a slow circle. "I'm so sorry. I won't ever leave again, I swear it."

_You say that now_, Gabrielle thought sadly, _but you don't know about the baby yet, do you?_

She felt sick and deceitful, knowing she was keeping something so huge from him. But still, it wasn't right to tell him now. Not with everyone waiting for them inside. Enjolras deserved one night of happiness before she turned his life upside down yet again.

Gabrielle let her tears run their course and they soon stopped. Enjolras took his new and clean handkerchief and dabbed at the wetness still lingering on her cheeks. "You're still beautiful, even when you're crying," he teased, trying to get her to smile.

"You're a liar." Gabrielle squeezed his hand. "But I suppose we should go inside now. Everyone is waiting for you."

Enjolras nodded, but not before leaning down and kissing her again.

Gabrielle held onto his hand as they went inside, and she grinned as the entered the dining room to find a veritable feast spread across the table. Sophie had outdone herself, with Marie's help, making all of Enjolras' favorite foods. Joly, Musichetta, Marius, Durand, and Genevieve were already gathered around the table, and they let up a cheer as Enjolras and Gabrielle entered the room.

Gabrielle pasted a smile on her face even as her stomach flipped at the sight and smell of the food, and she reluctantly let go of her husband's hand as he properly greeted his friends. Genevieve stood to embrace Gabrielle, saying quietly, "Now I know you're happy to have your husband home, but are you alright? You're looking a little bit green."

"Oh, I'm fine! I just feel a bit overwhelmed. Thank you so much for being here." Gabrielle accepted the glass of wine Marius handed to her and sat next to Enjolras. She soon felt his hand grasp hers under the table and squeeze. He only relinquished his hold on her to eat, and even then, he reached out his leg to rest against hers. Even though she barely touched her food, she soon felt her nerves settling as she began to realize he really was home. He was here. It was all over. He wouldn't leave again.

_At least not until I tell him about the baby..._

Just the thought was enough to cause her physical pain. Her heart told her that fear was irrational – she knew he loved her. And he was much too honorable to leave her. But she didn't know if he would still love her the same, or how he would feel about their child. She didn't even know how she would feel.

Gabrielle forced herself to stop thinking and listen to the lively conversation around her, feeling her mood gradually improve as everyone let the wine go to their heads. Enjolras rubbed slow circles on her wrist under the table and, even as he laughed at an old story of Joly's, raised her hand to his lips in a promise of what was to come once their guests departed. Gabrielle smiled as she caught his eye and moved her own hand to rest on his thigh. She squeezed gently and was satisfied to see him squirm a little bit in his chair. It was obvious he still wanted her as much as before.

Gabrielle was grateful to feel the familiar pull to Enjolras, the almost physical chains that bound them together. Even with the other thoughts that pre-occupied her mind, she still needed him, and fervently hoped that no matter what happened, he would continue to love her and feel the same way.

Joly and Marius talked and joked all night, keeping everyone entertained for hours. Even straight-laced Genevieve had trouble walking in a straight line when she and Durand finally departed. It seemed the only two left sober were Enjolras and Gabrielle, and Gabrielle felt a little drunk herself just from her husband's presence.

Marie retired with a knowing smile after everyone else left, and Gabrielle followed Enjolras down the hall to their bedroom, clinging to his hand. Even before they got there, he stopped and pulled her in for a kiss in the middle of the hallway. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled against his lips, gasping as he abruptly pulled away and continued to drag her along.

They stepped into the darkened bedroom and Enjolras quickly shut the door behind them, an urgency in his movements. Gabrielle gasped as he pressed her against the door, frantically tearing at her dress. She heard the buttons pop and felt a few fall at her feet. She was a little shocked at his obvious need, but turned on just the same. He tugged her dress down her body and Gabrielle shakily stepped out of the material, kicking it aside. Enjolras kissed her hard, lifting her leg and running his hand down her thigh to cup her bottom. He pressed against her, his breath already coming in rough gasps.

"I thought they would never leave," he said, voice low and rasping. "God, I want you."

Gabrielle let him take control and he soon had her corset and other underthings off. He cupped her breasts and she suddenly felt self-conscious, wondering if he would notice the small changes already happening to her body – her breasts were bigger and, unless she was imagining things, her hips just a little wider, making her seem curvier and more womanly. Thankfully, her stomach was still mostly flat, her pregnancy not showing itself there yet. Enjolras lowered his mouth to one breast as his hand massaged the other and Gabrielle arched her back, tangling her hands in his curls. Her soft moans urged him on, and his mouth moved agonizingly slowly down her body, first kissing the hollow between her breasts, then down her stomach, making her shiver in anticipation.

He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and pressed searing kisses along her thighs, his tongue flicking out to taste her opening. "Please, Antoine," she whispered.

Enjolras obliged and slowly inserted his tongue into her, gentle at first, but soon roughly pushing, pulling, and sucking on her most sensitive spots. Gabrielle writhed as she rode the sensations he was giving her, her hands frantically trying to find something to grasp. Her nails scraped the wooden door and her passion made Enjolras even more bold. He reached up to steady her, firmly holding her waist in his hands as he drove her closer to her climax. She whimpered his name, begging him to send her over the edge, and she pushed against him, tangling her hands in his hair. She squeezed her eyes shut as she reached her orgasm, gasping his name.

Her legs were so weak could barely stand, and Gabrielle clung to his shoulders as Enjolras slowly stood, kissing his way back up her body. She began to unbutton his pants as he carelessly tore at his waistcoat and shirt, and he was soon naked in front of her. Gabrielle sighed as she looked at him and reached out one hand to slowly touch his chest. She brushed her hand along his lower stomach, close to his arousal, and he growled again, grabbing her arm and pulling her against him. Their bodies connected, skin against skin, and she wanted to weep from the sensation. She had missed him so much.

He lifted her easily, moving her just a few feet to rest against the dresser before frantically pushing into her. As his length filled her, Gabrielle gasped, feeling sparks ignite between them.

"Harder," she begged, and Enjolras drove further into her, burying his face in her shoulder and gripping her back tightly. His breath was hot against her neck and she moaned, matching his frantic rhythm, their hips moving together. Her ankles locked around his waist and Enjolras moaned, beginning to suck on her neck even as he continued to thrust roughly into her. It was amazing feeling him move inside of her again, feeling his passion and need building with every connected move they made. His eyes were wild as they met hers, his vision seeming to drift in and out of focus.

Gabrielle's nails dug into his back and she stifled a scream as she felt another climax pooling in her stomach. She tightened around him and Enjolras moaned her name, whispering almost unintelligible words of affection into her ear as she climaxed. Gabrielle threw her head back in pleasure, while Enjolras continued his rhythm, pounding harder into her. He finally came with a muffled cry against her shoulder, every muscle in his body tense. After his release, Enjolras slowly pulled out of her, but didn't let her out of his grasp. They didn't speak, their breathing still strained, and Gabrielle felt a million emotions swirling through her.

After a few minutes, Enjolras finally raised his eyes to meet hers. He didn't need to say anything; Gabrielle could read his thoughts and feel his relief. She wrapped her arms around his neck again and felt a ragged sob escape her chest. He held her as she cried, slowly rubbing her back and running his fingers through her hair. When her cries finally subsided, she was surprised to find his own eyes wet as he looked at her. Enjolras picked her up easily in his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her gently on the mattress before climbing in beside her. Gabrielle tangled her legs with his, desperate not to lose the feel of him beside her.

"I missed you most at night," she said quietly, "when there was no one around to distract me or help me stop thinking."

"I missed you all the time."

They were quiet for a few minutes and Enjolras trailed soft kisses along her shoulders and arms, re-committing her body to his memory. She felt his mood shift after a little while, however, and he admitted, "I hated what I did today, what I had to say."

"I know. But you did what you had to do. And it worked," she reasoned.

"I've been idle for too long," Enjolras said hesitantly. "The newspaper...I mean, that was mostly Marius and Joly. You've been working with Genevieve. And what have I done? Sat behind a lawyer's desk and gotten myself thrown in prison."

"You're being too hard on yourself," Gabrielle said, smoothing his wild curls. "Much too hard. You went through something horrible, Antoine, and you needed time to heal. Everyone moves on in their own ways and in their own time."

"I love you," Enjolras said, propping himself up on one elbow and gently resting his hand on her cheek. "But Gabrielle, I..." He paused, looking uncertain how to express himself. "I think I've been _hiding _in you, too, letting myself only concentrate on you. Because you made me forget and feel happy, and so, so loved."

Gabrielle frowned, worried at where he was going with this. "Do you...do you want this to stop?" she whispered, terror gripping her heart.

"No!" Enjolras sighed and fell back, covering his eyes. "No, I'm sorry. That's not what I mean at all." He paused for a minute to collect his thoughts, then turned back on his side to face her, taking her hands in his and squeezing reassuringly. "I never want this to stop, Gabrielle. I want to be with you, share everything with you. I meant what I said in that letter...I will love you to the end of my days."

Gabrielle managed a small smile, feeling reassured. "But?"

"I need to start being true to myself again. Since I was a child and could understand the things my father and his friends spoke about, this country, and the thought of what it _could be_ was the one thing I loved, the one thing I believed in. I have to do something to make that vision someday come to pass, Gabrielle."

"What will you do?" She tried to keep the fear from her voice. She knew his passionate nature sometimes made Enjolras get carried away, swept up in his ideals and dreams. It had led to disaster on the barricade.

"I won't lead another rebellion, at least not anytime soon," he smirked. "But, I was thinking...does Genevieve still want to start that orphanage?"

"Yes..."

"Then lets do it. We can run it, Gabrielle. We can even open a school there, where we can both teach. It may not bring about change overnight, or even in our lifetimes, but we'll be helping people and making a difference. It's still fighting a revolution, the same one even, but in a different way."

Gabrielle was silent as she stared at him. She could see this was something he had already thought a lot about, had already gotten his heart set on. And really, was it so bad? It was what she had wanted to do anyway, though she didn't think he would be so keen on joining her. He would be _good _at it, though, she knew, and it would satisfy his calling to make a difference in the world. In truth, it was exactly what she had wanted for him just after the barricade, when he seemed so lost and broken. Enjolras had finally found his passion again, and he wanted to share it with her.

"I think it's an amazing idea," Gabrielle said quietly. "I think you'll be wonderful. I think we'll be wonderful together."

Enjolras' eyes lit up and he kissed her excitedly, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Then we'll start plans right away. Thank you, love, for everything."

Gabrielle fell asleep smiling for the first time in weeks.

* * *

**Hi, there! Lots of stuff happened in this chapter. And reunion sex! Yay! I hope it met your expectations.**

**Thank you for the incredible reviews. This is only the second story I've ever written that's gotten over 200! That's pretty amazing. I don't think I replied to every one from the last chapter, but I swear I will for this one. Please let me know what you think!**

**I'm going to try and finish writing this coming week, as it's spring break for me. (And I'm spending it in a beautiful condo on the beach!) It's crazy to think this might be coming to an end soon. I'm really going to miss it!**

**Like I said, please review!**

~Aimee

**P.S. Baby Enjolras officially has a name. :)**


	25. Chapter XXV

Chapter XXV

Enjolras and Gabrielle stayed in bed for two days and both would have been content for it to never end. Marie left them alone, but did make sure they were well fed, leaving food and water outside the bedroom door at least three times a day. Gabrielle only picked at hers, but Enjolras didn't seem to notice.

During the day, Gabrielle was careful to keep a sheet covering her body so that Enjolras wouldn't see the tell-tale signs of her pregnancy. Not that he would have noticed, anyway; he was rather clueless, and she could tell he didn't suspect a thing. They made love, being more bold and brazen with each other than ever before, and Gabrielle almost cried at the pleasure he made her feel. It was so intense as she gazed at him moving inside of her that it was like looking into the sun.

They talked about his plans, too, and he was eager to hear what Gabrielle had to say and suggest. The one thing she didn't tell him, however, was that he was going to be a father. She didn't know why, since it was on the tip of her tongue more than once, almost slipping out, but it never felt like quite the right time. Telling him made it so final. And it scared her half to death.

On the morning of the third day, Gabrielle finally tried to kick Enjolras out of bed for good. She could tell he was eager to begin implementing his plans, and had already mentioned wanting to set up meetings with several potential investors he knew. Money for the orphanage and school couldn't come only from their own pockets.

"Are you sure you really want me to leave?" he grinned, pulling Gabrielle onto his lap and sensuously running his hands over her skin.

"Well, no...but it isn't as bad since I know you'll be coming back this time." She kissed him gently, letting his tongue explore her mouth. She moved her lips to his jaw and felt his stubble rough against her skin. "You need to shave again," she mumbled. "And did I warn you yet that I'm _never allowing_ you to grow a beard again, no matter how old you are?"

Enjolras laughed and squeezed her breast. He had been paying an awful lot of attention to them in the last few days, Gabrielle thought, though that wasn't really that unusual. He had even told her outright once they were his favorite feature of hers. Enjolras suddenly pulled away a little bit and looked at her, raising his eyebrows. "You feel...different," he admitted and looked a little nervous to be mentioning it at all, like he would offend her.

Gabrielle froze, wondering if she should just say it, but asked quietly, "How?"

He looked at her like it was obvious, his eyes flicking down to her chest. "Well..."

Gabrielle opened her mouth to speak, but felt a rush of fear and kissed him instead, pressing her chest against his to distract him. "Maybe you just don't remember," she mumbled, grinding her hips against his erection and effectively driving him insane.

"I remember," Enjolras panted after a minute, and helped Gabrielle move onto his length. She moved slowly, keeping her arms around his neck, and he gripped her hips, letting her ride him at her own speed.

"Are you _sure _you want me to leave?" he asked again as her breath began to grow short.

She leaned her forehead against his shoulder and stubbornly said, "Yes." Gabrielle was satisfied to receive a low moan from Enjolras as she began to bite and suck at his skin. Her movements became more frantic as she neared her climax and Enjolras began to lose control, too, thrusting his hips up to meet hers. His hands tangled roughly in her hair and she didn't mind, pulling away a little bit to lean back and rest her hands against his chest.

Enjolras swore in a whisper as he looked at her in the throes of their passionate love-making, his own eyes heavy and unfocused. "You're absolutely beautiful."

She smiled and tightened around his length, earning another bout of cursing and faster thrusts from Enjolras, which soon sent her over the edge. He spilled into her not long after and Gabrielle sighed in satisfaction, leaning forward to curl up against his chest. They were both slick with sweat, and Gabrielle felt like purring she was so content.

And, once again, she had successfully diverted his attention.

* * *

When Enjolras had a goal, there was no stopping or holding him back. Within a week's time, he had secured quite a bit of money, found a large enough building to house the orphanage that wasn't _completely _falling apart, and had even begun interviewing potential caretakers for the children, the building upkeep, and the grounds. Gabrielle was amazed at what he could do when he put his mind to it. There seemed to be no stopping him.

If everything went according to his plan, they would have the building ready to open in less than two month's time, and Gabrielle was keen and eager to help. Luckily, within a few days of Enjolras being home, her sickness had magically vanished, just as Cosette said hers had. And, when she looked in the mirror, Gabrielle noticed the tiniest bulge in her stomach that hadn't been there only a few days before. Her pregnancy would soon be too difficult for her to hide, and Enjolras would notice on his own, considering how much time she spent completely naked in front of him. He would notice if _that _changed, too, and she suddenly grew modest, so there was really no getting out of a confession.

She made up her mind to tell him one evening and let Marie in on her plans so she would be out of the house. Enjolras, however, distracted her with his unbelievably talented mouth, first in the hallway as he barely made it out of his coat, and then again on the sofa in the library. So Gabrielle promised herself that she wouldn't let him get out of the door in the morning without first telling him the news. It was growing ridiculous of her, really, she knew.

However, both Enjolras and Gabrielle woke up to a frantic knocking on the front door the next day. The sun's first rays were just peeking through the window and Gabrielle sighed, pulling the covers up over their heads. "Ignore it. Maybe they will go away," she mumbled.

Enjolras chuckled quietly and rubbed her back, not intending to stir himself. The knocking, however, only became more insistent. "Fine, fine...I'm coming."

Enjolras stretched and carefully disentangled himself from Gabrielle's body. He stumbled trying to pull on his trousers and Gabrielle simply closed her eyes and turned her head away, determined to fall back asleep.

It was not to be that day, however, for when Enjolras opened the front door she heard Marius' voice. She rose onto her elbow and looked at the bedroom door, which Enjolras soon burst through. He closed it again behind him and quickly began to gather her underthings in his hands.

"Get up, Gabrielle. Marius is waiting for you. The baby is coming and Cosette is asking for you."

"Oh! Of course!" Gabrielle's stomach turned into a mass of knots as she rose and let Enjolras help her dress. What had she gotten herself into, agreeing to be there for the birth of Cosette's baby? It would only make her more terrified of her own delivery, she was sure. There was no turning back now, though, since she had agreed. She wished she could share her anxiety with Enjolras, but since she was too much of a coward to tell him she was pregnant right then, she would have to bear it on her own.

Gabrielle didn't bother doing anything with her hair other than brushing it, and turned to look at Enjolras when she was ready.

"Are you coming, Antoine? I'm sure Marius would appreciate your company today, too."

"Yes, I'll be there shortly. You go with Marius now and I'll follow." He searched her face for a moment, then said quietly, "I wish you wore your hair down all the time."

Gabrielle smiled, taken aback by his sudden compliment. "Thank you, but it would get in the way, don't you think?."

She kissed him again, then hurried to meet Marius in the hall, who quickly took her arm and led her outside. His grandfather's driver, Eric, waited for them in the street. As Marius climbed into the fiacre behind her, Gabrielle noticed how pale and worried he looked.

"Marius, is everything alright? The doctor didn't say anything was wrong, did he?" she asked in concern.

"No, no, I suppose everything is fine. I'm just nervous, I guess." He rubbed his hands together. "I don't like the thought of Cosette in pain when there's nothing I can do about it."

Gabrielle smiled and laid her hands over his. "Marius, you are sweet. But Cosette will be fine! Women have been having babies for longer than you and I can fathom. And soon you'll have a strong, healthy baby. Enjolras is coming to wait with you, as well, and you know he'll tease you all day if you keep this up," she warned.

The thought forced a bark of laughter from his throat. "Indeed he will, and I hope someday I'll get to pay him back in kind. It isn't pleasant feeling helpless when it comes to someone you love, as he well should know."

Gabrielle smiled tentatively and thought, _That day may come sooner than you think, Monsieur..._

As soon as they got to Monsieur Gillenormand's home, Marius practically flew out of the fiacre and through the front door, leaving Gabrielle trailing in his wake. She couldn't keep up with his long strides, and he impatiently waited for her at the bottom of the stairs. He led her upstairs, through a maze of corridors, and gestured to the closed door at the end of a long hall. "They're in there," he said quietly.

"I will come let you know how she is soon," Gabrielle said, and gave him a reassuring smile. "Will you be downstairs?" Marius nodded tersely and watched Gabrielle open the door, craning his neck to try and see inside before she shut the door firmly behind her. Cosette was alone, sitting up in bed, and though she looked tired, she wasn't in pain at the moment.

"Gabrielle! I'm so glad you came." She held a hand out and Gabrielle quickly crossed the room and took it. "I was so nervous I wouldn't have a friend with me. And is Enjolras with Marius? He is so worried for me...Oh..." Cosette winced and laid her head back against the pillow as another wave of pain hit her. She gripped Gabrielle's hand tighter and Gabrielle reached out to smooth her hair back, whispering softly.

"It will pass soon, Cosette. You're doing wonderfully. Relax and breathe, darling...I'm sure it's almost over..." Gabrielle rubbed the back of Cosette's hand soothingly and smiled when her eyes finally opened again.

"That one wasn't so bad," Cosette said softly.

"How long has it been now?" Gabrielle asked.

"Several hours. It was still dark when Marius first called for the doctor. He says it will be a little while yet, but the pains are getting closer together."

Gabrielle smiled and squeezed her hand. "Well, Cosette, for a woman about to have a baby, I have to say you look remarkably beautiful. I don't think I would look as you do."

Cosette laughed. "It hasn't gotten bad yet, Gabrielle. And how was Marius?"

Gabrielle rose. "He will be a lot happier when I go tell him you are laughing and smiling still. Do you need anything?"

"Some water would be nice, thank you," Cosette said gratefully. Gabrielle nodded and left the room, hurrying down the stairs. Enjolras was just entering the front door and looked up at her. She smiled brilliantly and hurried down to meet him, feeling unexpected adrenaline course through her.

"I'm glad you're here, Antoine. I must find Marius." She took his hand and led him into the parlour. Marius was pacing in front of the windows, but looked up hopefully as they entered.

"Cosette is _fine_, Marius. She is better than fine, really – we were just laughing together. You have nothing to worry about."

Enjolras let go of her hand and crossed the room to his friend. "See, Marius? You are doing all of this worrying for nothing. Let's play a game of chess while we wait."

Marius' face softened and he nodded. "Thank you, Gabrielle. Please let me know if anything changes."

Gabrielle left the room and requested some water from a servant before going back upstairs. When she entered the room again, the doctor was there. Cosette was obviously in considerable pain this time. Gabrielle quickly sat next to her on the bed and took her hand, reminding her to breathe deeply.

When the pain passed, the doctor examined Cosette, then retreated back downstairs with barely a word.

"He's a pleasant man, isn't he?" Gabrielle said sarcastically, and Cosette laughed.

"I think Marius called him much too early. Everyone told me not to worry until the pain came every five or ten minutes. Marius went to get him when I was still sleeping between each one! They were _at least_ an hour apart! Now he's just paying the doctor to stay here for nothing."

Gabrielle laughed. "Well, I suppose if it eases his mind, then it's no matter to us."

Several more hours passed. The first few were pleasant, and Gabrielle and Cosette talked and laughed between each painful contraction. Cosette began to speak less and less as the pain grew more intense and closer together, however. Gabrielle helped her walk about the room, since she insisted it helped the pain, and Gabrielle tried not to let the low moans of suffering Cosette let out every once in a while scare her. She did hope that Enjolras kept Marius from upstairs, however, because he would certainly be alarmed at the sounds escaping his wife. She was clearly in intense and horrific pain by the time the doctor next examined her, five hours later. He said in a calm and matter-of-fact, voice, though, that it wasn't quite time yet, and told Gabrielle to come fetch him should she suspect that anything had changed. She could only glare at his back as his left, and was thankful a servant appeared with more water and a soothing cold cloth for Cosette's forehead.

It was now early evening, Gabrielle finally realized, and Cosette could find no relief anymore, no matter how she contorted her body. She had tried sitting, standing, sitting on her knees, laying on her back, on her side...it was terrifying to watch, knowing Gabrielle was going to go through the same thing in only a few months. Surely the baby would be here soon, though, she thought, from the way Cosette was acting.

"Gabrielle," Cosette said, gripping her hand. "I think it's time for the doctor to be here. I feel like I need to push," she gasped. "Please, please go find him!"

Gabrielle looked between Cosette and the door, hesitating. She was saved from her dilemma of having to leave Cosette alone by another servant enterting, however, and quickly rushed into the hall and down the stairs.

When she burst into the parlour, Marius had his head in his hands and Enjolras sat calmly reading a book on the sofa. "Marius? It's not going to be long now, and Cosette is fine. I just wanted to tell you. And have you seen the doctor?"

The soon-to-be father's eyes grew wide and he gaped at Gabrielle dumbly.

"He's right behind you," Enjolras said calmly, and Gabrielle turned to see the doctor in the hall. She grabbed his arm and hauled him back upstairs, praying that she would make it through Cosette's delivery without crying hysterically.

* * *

Marius rose and began to pace the room again, wringing his hands. It was at least the fiftieth lap he had made that day. He would soon wear out the damn carpet, Enjolras thought. He rolled his eyes and snapped quite unkindly, "For God's sake, Marius, _be still._ There is nothing you can do to help her right now."

Marius turned on him and said accusingly, "You don't understand, Enjolras! What if something goes wrong?"

Enjolras put his book down, making sure to keep his tone even and trying to be kind, even though his patience had worn out hours ago. He had canceled several appointments to wait with Marius, and this damn baby was taking forever to arrive. "Well, you mustn't think that way, my friend. Gabrielle just said she's fine. And it won't be long now. You're making yourself sick."

Marius winced as Cosette let out a sharp cry of pain that echoed all the way down the stairs. "And what if it was Gabrielle, Enjolras? Having _your _child? You would be just as worried," he said firmly.

Enjolras paused and considered. He hadn't thought about it before. What would he feel like? "I don't know," he admitted.

The thought of Gabrielle in pain was troublesome, and this waiting was fairly gut-wrenching. But, they had already decided to do everything they could not to have a child, so he supposed it was something he didn't have to worry about.

"Well, it isn't a walk in the park," Marius said sarcastically. "There are lots of things that can go wrong, Joly said, and..."

Enjolras held up a hand and said incredulously, "You listened to _Joly?_ The man sneezes and is convinced he's going to die! Yes, things can go wrong, Marius, but that doctor is the calmest man I've ever seen. If he isn't concerned, I don't think you have any reason to be."

Marius shrugged and glared at the floor. "I'm going to wait upstairs. I want to be close if she needs me."

Enjolras rose and quickly followed Marius up the stairs. There was just no stopping him anymore, so it was better to let him do what he needed to, if it would ease is mind. Marius stopped in front of Cosette's door and listened, squeezing his eyes shut every time Cosette cried out or moaned. Enjolras leaned against the wall and watched his friend silently, wincing a bit himself at the awful noises emitting from the room. Having babies seemed quite a nasty business.

It seemed like they were standing there for hours before they finally heard the faint cry of a baby.

Marius turned to look at Enjolras in awe, his face turning from worried to exuberant in only a moment. "I have a child!" he exclaimed.

Enjolras grinned at the expression on his face and reached out to shake Marius' hand, pulling him into a one-armed hug. "Congratulations, Marius."

Marius laughed and hugged him again, practically lifting Enjolras off the floor. He was practically hopping up and down, waiting to be let into the room.

In a few minutes, Gabrielle opened the door and beckoned Marius inside. "Marius! I had a feeling I would find you here. Come and meet your beautiful son!" Gabrielle laughed when Marius hugged her. As he entered the room, she quietly closed the door behind her and met Enjolras' eyes. He was surprised at the emotion he suddenly felt, and knew Gabrielle could see it in his gaze. He was strangely touched at the thought of his friend becoming a father, and the way he had lit up as he heard he had a son.

"Oh, Antoine! He is so beautiful. It was amazing...I never..." Gabrielle gave him a watery smile as a few tears suddenly slipped down her cheeks. Enjolras wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. He didn't really know what to say. "They will be so happy and he's going to grow up to be so loved."

Enjolras nodded and smiled. "Yes, he will. And you're alright?"

Gabrielle gazed up at him as he took out his handkerchief and wiped her cheeks. "Yes, I'm fine. I just didn't expect to feel so much. And he's so tiny, Antoine! Absolutely perfect, and so soft. I'd never held a baby before! You should hold him, really, he's the most incredible thing."

He laughed at her excitement. "I wouldn't know the first thing about holding a baby," he said quietly.

"Well, neither do I, but it really isn't that hard."

They waited in the hall another few minutes, still wrapped in each other's arms, before Marius opened the door again, a little bundle in his arms.

"Cosette isn't quite up to visitors yet, but we wanted you to meet him, Enjolras." Marius was positively beaming at his new son.

Gabrielle made a soft sound of delight and reached out for the baby's hand. Marius carefully handed him to her and she leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"He's so perfect, Marius. I can't tell you how happy I am for you," Gabrielle said sincerely. She looked up to find Enjolras gazing at her with an expression that was hard to place. He didn't look like he wanted to run away, in any case. She cocked her head at him and smiled tentatively. "Antoine? Isn't he wonderful? You can touch him, you know..."

Enjolras shook himself from his daydream and tentatively reached out to grasp the baby's tiny hand. "Have you named him yet, Marius?"

"Jean, for Cosette's father. His middle name is Matthieu."

"That's perfect," Gabrielle said. "Oh, look at his little fingernails!" Gabrielle lifted the baby to her shoulder and rubbed soothing circles on his back as he began to fuss. Enjolras couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her, and Marius took notice.

"Gabrielle, I think by this time next year, you and Enjolras will have one of your own." Marius clapped Enjolras on the back and took no notice of his friend's sudden frown.

Gabrielle quickly glanced at Enjolras and her face darkened for a moment at the expression he wore. "Oh, perhaps, Marius. But I don't quite know if a family is in the cards for us," she said dismissively and with a suddenly false cheer. "But here, I think someone wants his mother...and we really should be going and let you all rest." With one last kiss to little Jean's head, Gabrielle handed him back to Marius.

They said their goodbyes and were soon walking home in the moonlight, Gabrielle's hand tucked into the crook of Enjolras' arm.

They didn't speak, which wasn't unusual for them. And Gabrielle seemed quite pre-occupied. Enjolras supposed she was tired. It was a long day.

As they neared the house, Enjolras suddenly burst out, "Now you want one of your own, don't you?"

Gabrielle stopped in her tracks. Was he crazy, or did she actually look guilty? She didn't answer and lowered her eyes to the ground.

"Gabrielle," he said quietly, and reached for her hand. "I can tell that...well, that you were moved by everything today. I can understand that. But...I just..." he faltered, taken aback when she looked up at him. Her eyes were filled with sadness, a sadness he didn't expect.

"I know, Antoine. You don't have to explain anything to me."

"I do, though. I know I've said I don't want children, and I _don't_, not particularly. We're so young, especially you. We have all the time in the world to have a family someday, when the time is right. I used to say never, but now, I think we can talk about it again in a few years, love. But with everything we're doing _now_, opening the orphanage...Hell, it's almost going to give us an instant family, anyway!" Enjolras said lightly, trying to change the mood and the horrible look that had come over her face as he spoke. He had a feeling he had really put his foot in his mouth, and he wasn't sure why. He had no idea she would suddenly feel so strongly about having a baby.

He was completely out of his league.

"Don't worry, Antoine," Gabrielle said icily, and pulled out of his grasp. "I would never want to bring a child into this world that isn't wanted." She turned away from him and walked hurriedly into the house, slamming the front door behind her.

Enjolras stood outside for a minute, astonished at how fast she had seemingly changed her mind about wanting a family. How was he supposed to know actually telling her how he felt would make her so angry? He was just trying to be honest. She couldn't possibly be mad at him for that. It was better than lying, getting her hopes up, and then letting her down when she found out how he really felt.

Enjolras waited an hour or so before going in to bed, guessing that it was probably best to leave Gabrielle alone for a little while. He undressed quietly and climbed under the covers, watching her for any sign of movement. Her back was to him and she didn't stir at all.

"Gabrielle?" he asked quietly. "Are you awake?"

There was no reply. Enjolras reached over and gently stroked her arm, but she pulled away roughly and Enjolras withdrew his hand with a sigh.

"Not tonight, Antoine. Go to sleep," she whispered.

"For what it's worth, Gabrielle, I'm sorry. I just wanted to be honest. There's no use lying to you. I don't _want _to lie to you about anything."

He waited for a reply, but none came. He had really done it this time, and it had happened so unexpectedly. Enjolras sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He had tried, at least, to mend things, but it seemed Gabrielle wanted to be difficult.

"Well...good night, then," he mumbled, but it was a long time before he fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

**Aw, our boy is so clueless, y'all. Poor thing.**

**And I'm at the beach, listening to the gulls obnoxiously yell at each other and the waves lap against the shore! LOVE IT. **

**So, I may or may not finish writing this week. ha I don't want it to end, so I might try and stretch this out for myself. In any case, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and getting to meet Baby Pontmercy! Look forward to some backstory for Musichetta in the next chapter, which I'm really anxious to write! Hopefully I can update again on Wednesday or Thursday. :)**

**~Aimee**


	26. Chapter XXVI

Chapter XXVI

The streets were crowded in the early morning, but Gabrielle paid no attention to the throngs of people as she made her way to Musichetta's apartment. For the first time in their marriage, she woke before Enjolras, and immediately needed to get out of the house. She couldn't bear to face him after the things he said last night - and they weren't even that _bad_. He was only trying to be honest with her.

It had broken her heart just the same, and convinced her even more that everything was going to change between them once he found out she was pregnant. This baby was clearly something he didn't want, and despite what he had said last night about perhaps having children in a few years, he might never _really _change his mind.

Gabrielle soon found herself in front of Musichetta's door. She raised her hand and knocked softly, knowing Musichetta and Joly were probably still asleep. She knocked again when no one answered the first time, a little bit louder than before, and soon found a sleepy-eyed Musichetta standing before her.

"Gabrielle! What are you doing here so early? Is everything alright?" Musichetta drew her dressing gown closed around her and beckoned Gabrielle into the apartment.

"I know I woke you. I'm so sorry," Gabrielle apologized. "I just...I need someone to talk to..."

Musichetta took Gabrielle's arm and sat her down at the table. She began to make tea and soon put a steaming cup in front of Gabrielle. "It's no trouble. What happened? Is Enjolras alright?"

"Everything is _fine_, really," Gabrielle said. "I don't know why I'm so upset...I'm probably making things worse than they really are. There's no good reason for me to want to cry all the time, but I do, and then the next instant I feel just fine. It's silly of me to be bothering you like this."

"Tell me anyway," Musichetta said kindly.

"Cosette had the baby yesterday. I was there with her."

"Did she?! No wonder Joly didn't hear from Marius. We'll have to send a note today. How are they? Is it a boy or a girl?"

"It's a boy, and he's absolutely perfect. Cosette is fine. She did really wonderfully, even though it seemed horribly painful. And Musichetta, it was..." Gabrielle struggled for words, gesturing with her hands. "I mean...I was so terrified, at first, knowing I'm going to go through that in a few months. But..."

Musichetta smiled knowingly. "There's something a little bit magical about it, isn't there? Seeing another life come into the world?"

"Yes! I didn't know it would be like that, that it would move me so much..." Gabrielle's eyes filled with tears as she realized her hands were clasped protectively over her stomach. "For the first time, I wasn't filled with dread when I thought about my baby. It didn't seem so horrible, I felt _happy _to be pregnant. It seemed..."

"Like maybe you want your baby?" Musichetta offered gently.

"Yes. For a while, I thought so. And then Enjolras, he..." Gabrielle trailed off, but began again after another gentle nudge from Musichetta. "Then he went and gave me a long speech about how he could tell I suddenly wanted one, and that it just wasn't the right time, but we could have a family in a few years..."

Musichetta raised her eyebrows, looking thoughtful. "So, let me make sure I understand. Enjolras went from saying that he didn't want children at all to telling you, as soon as you even acted like you wanted a baby, that it was something you _would _do in a few years?"

"Yes. He said there was no way we could do it right now..."

Musichetta laughed and looked at her pointedly. "Well, of course he did, Gabrielle. He doesn't _know _that it's already happening or he never would have said any of that. And, love, if you weren't already pregnant, would you want to do it right now, either?"

"I...no, of course not," Gabrielle admitted.

"Gabrielle, believe me, I know that your emotions are everywhere right now. That's what being with child does to you. But, darling, listen to what you're saying and think about what _he _said. He gave into you before you even said a thing. He read you like an open book. And he changed his mind just to make you happy. If you asked Enjolras for the moon, I think he would try and figure out a way to get it for you."

Gabrielle stared at the table, wondering if what Musichetta said was true. "So you...you think he won't be mad when he finds out?"

"No, I don't think he'll be _mad_. I think he'll be shocked and more than a little apprehensive. I certainly don't think you should expect him to run through the streets shouting about it like Marius did, but I think once Enjolras accepts it, he's going to realize he will love your child as much as he loves you, whether this was planned and welcomed or not."

Gabrielle suddenly burst into tears, dramatically burying her face in her arms on the tabletop. "He's so good to me. He's such a good man. He _will _be a good father! But I don't know the first thing about being a mother, 'Chetta! How can I possibly raise a child?!" she wailed.

Musichetta scooted her chair closer and wrapped her arms around Gabrielle's shoulders. Gabrielle would have been amused to notice Joly step out of the bedroom, but instantly retreat at the tearful sight before him; however, she was much too wrapped up in her distress to notice the glare Musichetta gave him.

"Gabrielle, I want to tell you a story," Musichetta said softly. "But you have to calm down first so I know you're really listening."

"A story about what?"

"About me. Something very few people know. Exactly one living person, as a matter of fact."

Gabrielle's tears stopped out of sheer curiosity. "About you? And Joly is the only one who knows?"

Musichetta smiled. "Well, now you will, too. And maybe it will help you appreciate what you've been given."

Gabrielle frowned and took Musichetta's hand. "It sounds like this isn't a very happy story, 'Chetta. If it pains you to talk about it, you don't have to tell me."

"It's both happy and sad." Musichetta took a deep breath and began quietly, "I come from a very wealthy family, Gabrielle. I grew up with everything I ever wanted, I was horribly spoiled and selfish...and, of course, I thought I knew everything. I fell in love with a young man when I was seventeen, and he was not the boy my family wanted me to marry. How I loved him, though!" Musichetta smiled in remembrance.

"What happened?" Gabrielle asked.

"I slept with him, of course. I thought he would marry me. I thought he cared only for me and my happiness. I was wrong, as young girls usually are about that sort of thing." Musichetta smiled bitterly. "And then, nine long months later, I gave birth to a baby girl."

Gabrielle straightened, her eyes wide. "I...'Chetta! I had no idea!"

Musichetta shrugged and took a deep breath before beginning again. "Yes, well...like I said, I don't talk about it often. Or ever."

"Where is she now?" Gabrielle whispered. "Your daughter, I mean?"

"She died." Gabrielle could hear the pain in Musichetta's voice. "When she was two. Her name was Sophie. She would be eight years old right now if she were still alive."

Gabrielle didn't know what to say. She had never suspected that Musichetta had such a painful past. She was always so happy, ready to laugh and joke and have a good time.

"Gabrielle, the reason I'm telling you this is simple," Musichetta said gently. "I was terrified when I found out I was pregnant. My parents disowned me. They tossed me out onto the street like I was nothing, and as far as I know, they've completely forgotten I ever existed. I came to Paris and started to take in laundry to try and make a living. It was terribly difficult, and I lived in squalor, but I managed, all the while dreading the day my baby would be born. I had no idea what to do, and I was alone."

"How did you manage?" Gabrielle whispered, feeling horrified. Her situation suddenly seemed trivial in the face of what Musichetta had gone through. She couldn't even imagine being strong enough to make it through such a situation.

"I did what I had to," Musichetta shrugged. "But that isn't why I'm telling you this. I'm telling you because, Gabrielle, I was _terrified_ to give birth to my daughter. Her delivery was hard and exhausting. I was in labor for nearly a day, with only a neighbor to help me, and it was the most horrific pain I've ever gone though. I remember screaming and cursing God, and myself, her father, my parents...but then, at the end of it, she was in my arms. I heard her cry, and suddenly, it was the most beautiful thing in the world. It was the sweetest sound I'd ever heard. It's impossible to describe the love I felt for her, Gabrielle. You can't possibly know it until it happens to you. But I knew as soon as I looked at her that being her mother was the most important thing I could ever be. And the two years I was given with her were the happiest of my life. I would trade _anything_, even my own life, to bring her back."

Gabrielle swallowed around the lump in her throat. What Musichetta said was hard to process. "I'm so sorry, Musichetta. How did she die?"

"She got sick. It was summer, terribly hot out, and one night she developed a fever. I couldn't afford a doctor. I did everything I could, but she slipped away. Life is precarious even at the best of times."

Musichetta took a deep breath, fighting back tears, and continued softly, "I was there when she took her first breath and when she took her last. And I would change nothing, _nothing, _about my past, Gabrielle, except to keep her alive. Being her mother was the most amazing gift I've ever been given."

Musichetta reached out and gently laid her hand on Gabrielle's stomach, forcing a tearful smile. "Don't waste this time worrying, Gabrielle. The moment you feel your baby move inside of you, you're going to understand. There is a little soul in your care now, and it will not be hard to fall in love with it. You just need to let yourself, and the rest will come to you."

Gabrielle laid her hand over Musichetta's and closed her eyes, feeling like an absolute fool. "God, you must hate me," she muttered. "Here I've been complaining and weeping like an idiot...you must have wanted to shake me so many times. I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, Gabrielle. I've accepted what happened. I think about my daughter every day, practically every moment, and I constantly miss her. But I can't change the past. I can only try to be happy now. I just don't want you to waste what could be such a happy time for you and Enjolras. You're going to be a _wonderful_, loving mother, Gabrielle. I truly believe that."

Gabrielle threw her arms around Musichetta and squeezed tightly. "Oh, 'Chetta, thank you. What would I do without you?"

"You'd be quite lost, of course."

* * *

Gabrielle walked home slowly, completely lost in thought. Her hand never left her stomach; the thoughts she had been having suddenly seemed horrific and cruel, considering how desperately Musichetta missed her own child. Had Gabrielle really ever considered trying to end the life of this little person growing inside of her? She could never. How selfish she was to even consider it. This baby deserved the life that she and Enjolras could give it.

Gabrielle wondered if she had avoided telling Enjolras for so long more out of her own fear than his. But it all seemed very clear now – she wanted this child, and she did already love it. How could she not? It was _his._ For the first time, Gabrielle tried to picture what their child might look like. And would it be a boy or a girl?

_Girl,_ Gabrielle thought suddenly. She had no idea where the feeling came from, but a firm intuition told her so. Maybe it was just Musichetta's story of little Sophie.

_'Chetta is the __strongest person I know_, Gabrielle thought, _next to my husband..._

Her pace quickened as she neared home and by the time she turned onto their street, she was practically running. She burst into the house to see Enjolras in the hallway heading for the door, a stormy expression on his face, and Marie hot on his heels.

Enjolras stopped in his tracks and stared at Gabrielle, relief washing over his face.

"Where were you?" he demanded. "I woke up and you were gone! You didn't leave a note. It's been _hours_, Gabrielle!" He sounded angry, worried, and relieved all at once.

"Hours? I didn't realize..." she sighed and took a step toward him, holding out her hand. "I just needed to get out for a while. I'm sorry I was gone for so long."

Enjolras looked at her incredulously, obviously frustrated. "What is _wrong, _Gabrielle? What in the world did I do to make you so upset?"

Marie suddenly stepped around them and cleared her throat. "Well! I'll be leaving for a while. Give you two a chance to talk." She patted Gabrielle's shoulder and gave her a pointed and slightly exasperated look that clearly said _Tell him _before she left the house.

Gabrielle looked at Enjolras and offered a tiny, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Antoine. I didn't even think about you being worried to wake and find me gone. And I'm not upset anymore. Musichetta talked some sense into me."

Enjolras reached forward and drew her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Well, good...I don't like fighting with you. But why were you so angry in the first place? I don't understand. I barely said anything last night. _Did _I say something wrong?"

"No." Gabrielle sighed and gently brushed her lips against his. "But we need to talk, Antoine. There's something I need to tell you, that I should have told you straight-away when you got home..."

She had never seen him look more confused, and her words were clearly not doing anything to ease his anxiety. "Is something wrong? Are you sick?"

"No. Come, we should sit down." Gabrielle took his hand and led him into the library, sitting down on their favorite sofa. Enjolras was clearly confused and worried, his lips set in a white line and his brow furrowed. He looked at her expectantly. She wasn't acting like herself, and he knew it.

Gabrielle kept his hand in her own and opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She clamped her lips together and closed her eyes, wincing a bit. She wasn't sure how to begin. She should have planned some sort of speech while she was out wandering.

"Gabrielle," Enjolras said sternly. "You're scaring me. Whatever it is, please just say it."

Gabrielle opened her eyes and searched his face. _Just say it! _she urged herself. She forced the words out, and said a little louder than intended and very abruptly, "Antoine, I'm pregnant."

It felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She let out a deep breath and said it again, softer this time. "I'm pregnant. I'm going to have a baby."

Enjolras stared at her, his expression unchanging. Gabrielle watched him carefully, and after a minute of sheer silence, she whispered uncertainly, "Antoine? Are you alright? I know you're upset. You've made it perfectly clear you don't really want children, especially right now, but...well, it's done. There's really nothing I can do about it now, and I _know_ it's a shock, but..." she shrugged and bit her lip, unsure of what else to say.

"How...how..." he sputtered. His expression didn't change, but his voice was shaky.

"How did it happen? Well, really, darling, you must know that..."

Enjolras rolled his eyes and seemed to shake himself out of the stupor he'd been in. "No. I mean, how long...how long have you known?"

"Oh. Well." Gabrielle cleared her throat and looked down at the floor, a bit ashamed to admit how long she had avoided this conversation. "For weeks now. Since you were in prison. I think it was the end of February when I realized. Well, when your mother realized, really..."

Enjolras blanched, dropping her hand and leaning over. He put his head between his knees and his hands grasped the edge of sofa until his knuckles turned white. "Jesus, I think I'm going to be sick," he mumbled.

Gabrielle winced and reached out to gently rub his back. Enjolras was breathing quickly, clearly panicking, and Gabrielle didn't really know what to do or say. So she just sat, lightly running her hand up and down his spine, and after a few minutes that seemed like hours to both of them, his breathing finally returned to normal. He rested his head on his hands, still leaning forward and clearly distraught.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Gabrielle raised her eyebrows, thinking it a bit obvious, considering his current reaction. "Well, you were in prison. I couldn't bear to tell you then, and make you worry about one more thing. And, if things turned out badly..." Gabrielle sighed and blinked back tears. "I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you to die with that burden..."

Enjolras turned his head to look at her, his eyes anguished. "And then? I've been home for two weeks, Gabrielle. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I knew you would be upset. I was scared. I thought you might leave, or be angry, or not treat me the same. I was afraid everything between us would change, when we had been so happy and..." Gabrielle tried to keep her voice steady, but her face crumbled and she turned away, trying to hide it from him.

Enjolras quickly wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to her hair. "Gabrielle! How can you think so little of me? _I love you._ Nothing will _ever_ change that," he said fiercely, and Gabrielle felt relief rush over her as she clung to him.

"But you don't want a child," she whispered into his shoulder. "You've said so. And I'm so sorry that this happened, that this will complicate our lives when things were so good. And you've been so happy and excited about the orphanage. I'm sorry."

Enjolras pulled away to look at her and said firmly, "Stop it. Stop apologizing, as if this is your fault. It isn't. It just...happened."

"But I know you aren't happy."

"I don't care about me right now, Gabrielle," he interrupted. "I want to know you feel."

"Oh. Well." She pulled away to compose herself and thought of everything that Musichetta said that morning, of the things she had realized as she made her way home. "I wasn't happy at all at first," she began slowly. "I thought about trying to end it, but Musichetta said it was much too dangerous. I didn't feel anything but dread for so long. And I was terrified. Well, I still am a bit terrified."

"But?" Enjolras asked quietly, watching her carefully.

"But then yesterday, when Jean was born, I don't know what happened. It was incredible to see his birth...to see a little life come into the world. And suddenly, I was excited, and happy, and it seemed like a miracle." Gabrielle clasped her hands over her stomach again and said passionately, "I want this baby. I don't know the first thing about being a mother or taking care of a baby, but I already love it, Antoine, because it's _yours _and I love you."

Once the words left her mouth, Gabrielle knew they were true. Everything seemed clearer now.

Enjolras didn't speak for a long while, and Gabrielle was patient. She remembered how shocked and horrified she felt when she first found out, and it was probably even worse for him. After a while, however, she grew tired of his blank stare and said quietly, "Antoine? I know you're upset. I understand, and it's alright. But I _know_ that you're going to be a wonderful father."

His eyes found hers and Enjolras suddenly let out a bark of almost hysterical laughter. "That sounds absolutely absurd. I never, and I mean _never, _thought..." He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, and said contemplatively, "But then again, I never thought I would be married and fall in love, either."

"And in that order," Gabrielle reminded him. Their eyes met again, and his icy blue gaze grew softer.

"You're really happy?" he asked.

She nodded. "I am. I only just realized it, but I am. It isn't the baby's fault that we didn't _plan _this. She deserves to be as loved as little Jean is."

"She?" Enjolras gaped. "How do you know?"

"Oh, I don't!" Gabrielle smiled and shrugged. "I just had the strangest feeling today about it...but, of course, I don't know. Would you prefer a boy?"

Enjolras' eyes widened and he shook his head, looking dumbstruck. "I...I have no idea. I've never thought about it." He stood and crossed to the window, looking lost in thought.

Gabrielle was silent again, letting him process everything at his own speed. When he finally turned around, he looked calmer. The color was back in his face and his eyes didn't look like those of a trapped animal. "When is the baby due?" he asked quietly.

"Late October, as far as Joly and I can figure. Right now, I think it's been about twelve or thirteen weeks. It's really just beginning to show." She gestured to her stomach and sighed. "I'm going to be _huge _soon."

Enjolras crossed his arms. "First, _why in the hell does Joly know?"_

"Well, obviously he's going to deliver the baby," Gabrielle said matter-of-factly. "I trust him. And he examined me. Musichetta knows, too. And your mother."

"Oh, and have you told the neighbors, too? Was I the last to find out?"

Gabrielle smiled. "Not _the _last. Genevieve doesn't know. And neither do Marius or Cosette, as a matter of fact. And what is second?"

Enjolras sat back down and looked at her, his expression serious. "No matter what you look like, you'll be beautiful."

"Oh." Gabrielle blushed. "Thank you."

Enjolras leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes. He looked like he had no idea what to do with himself.

"How do you feel?" Gabrielle asked. All in all, she thought he had taken the news remarkably well, much better than she'd anticipated. He hadn't screamed, cried, or run away, which seemed like a good sign.

"I have no idea, honestly," he admitted. "I think I'm just a bit shocked. I don't know if it's really hit me yet." He looked at her and said accusingly, "I _knew _you looked different. I can't believe I didn't realize."

"I should have told you then, when you brought it up. I'm sorry. I was just so worried."

Enjolras reached out and took her hand, pulling her into his lap. "I feel like an ass for making you think that," he said quietly. "I'm so sorry for what I said last night. I never would have said any of that if I'd known."

"I know. It's alright." Gabrielle felt relieved at his touch, that he wasn't shrinking away from her or looking at her differently. Maybe everything would really be okay...

"And you...I mean, you can see already?" His eyes drifted to her stomach.

"Not so much with clothes on," she said quietly.

Enjolras rose, scooping her up in his arms before gently putting her back on her feet. "I want to see you," he said hesitantly.

Gabrielle suddenly felt nervous, but nodded. She took his hand and led him to the bedroom, turning around to let him unbutton her dress. He gently slid the material down and kissed her bare shoulders before unlacing her corset. Gabrielle tossed it aside and took a deep breath, turning to face him.

He scrutinized her carefully, his arms hanging limp at his sides. His expression was hard to read. Gabrielle bit her lip and turned to the side, her hand lightly caressing her stomach.

"See?" she said quietly. "It's not really that obvious yet, but..."

"Yes, it is. My God, Gabrielle..." Enjolras' hand slowly moved to cover her stomach and Gabrielle looked up at him uncertainly. "This is really happening, isn't it? We're going to have a baby," he said, his voice filled with awe.

"Yes, we are. Are you alright?" she asked again, a little concerned by the obvious look of shock and surprise he still wore.

"I'm...amazed, I think. I don't know? I just..." Enjolras continued to caress her stomach and suddenly leaned down to kiss her gently. "I love you. Is that enough for right now?"

"Of course it is. That's always enough." Gabrielle turned towards him and tugged on his shirt, pulling his mouth down to meet hers. She kissed him soundly and wrapped her arms around his neck.

After a minute she pulled away just enough to whisper in his ear, "Make love to me, Antoine."

Enjolras kissed her again and they stumbled over to the bed. He carefully eased her back onto the mattress and Gabrielle laid back, watching him undress. He kicked his trousers aside and gingerly climbed onto the bed, easing himself gently on top of her and kissing his way up her body. Gabrielle sighed and wrapped her arms around his back, spreading her legs and feeling his arousal press against her thigh.

He was carefully keeping all of his weight off of her and Gabrielle smiled, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him closer. He looked at her in dismay and Gabrielle pushed his hair from his face, laughing. "You aren't going to hurt me, silly. We've been doing much worse than this for weeks and everything has been fine, you know."

"But I didn't _know_ then," he insisted. "Are you sure I can't hurt you?"

"Yes, love, I'm sure." Gabrielle brushed her lips against his and moved her hips, pressing his erection against her opening. "Make love to me," she insisted again, and Enjolras slowly eased himself inside of her. He held her gaze and moved in slow, gentle thrusts, setting a rhythm Gabrielle easily matched. He found her hand and threaded his fingers through hers, moving his lips to her jaw and lightly nipping at her skin.

Gabrielle sighed and closed her eyes, running her hands up and down his back. Since he had been home, their trysts had been rough, fast, and passionate. This felt different; slower and more sensual, and filled with meaning. As Enjolras neared his release, his movement sped up a bit. He met her eyes again, desperately whispering her name. That was all it took for Gabrielle to reach her own climax and she gasped, tightening her grasp on his back as Enjolras forcefully thrust into her a few more times before collapsing on top of her, still obviously being careful not to put all of weight onto her. Enjolras slowly pulled out and moved next to her on the bed, keeping one arm lightly resting on her waist.

He clearly looked overwhelmed, and Gabrielle could tell that everything was finally sinking in for him. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, running her fingers through his hair. "Everything is going to be fine," she said calmly. "We're going to be fine."

"I know." Enjolras swallowed and took a deep breath, and admitted breathlessly, "But I am scared out of my mind."

* * *

**I was going to wait to update, but you guys were just so sweet in your reviews for the last chapter, and so mad at me for drawing it out, that I decided to just post before I crawl into bed tonight. :) I truly hope it was worth the wait. And don't worry, Enjolras definitely still has a ways to go before he's happy about this news. I wanted his reaction to be in character for how I've written him so far, however, and considering he is a really gentlemanly and upstanding dude, AND is completely crazy in love with Gabrielle, I knew he wouldn't let himself totally freak out. If only for her sake.**

**He can save the freaking out for his conversations with his dead friends, after all.**

**Also, I hope y'all like what I threw in for Musichetta. I had been wondering about her for a while, and who she really was, and how she came to be so nurturing and awesomely kick-ass, so when I thought of that as a potential back-story for her, I really liked it. I actually have a bit more planned for her and Joly, though it may not show up here. Or ever? I don't really know if there's a call to use it, but I'd love to write it eventually.**

**Also, just to clarify, since I've had a couple people mention it in PMs and things: this story doesn't necessarily reflect my views on abortion. Whether you agree with it or not, how you feel about it is irrelevant for the story. It's always existed, women _did _use it back then even though it was dangerous and not necessarily fool-proof, and I thought it was unrealistic to have someone as intelligent as Gabrielle not even consider it, especially since she was in a rather dark place. Just because she ultimately doesn't and realizes she wants and loves her baby doesn't mean I'm condemning others who make another choice. Far from it. To each his own. Basically, just read the story for what it is and take the character for who she is. The end.**


	27. Chapter XXVII

Chapter XXVII

Over the next few days, Gabrielle watched Enjolras carefully. On the surface, he seemed to be just fine. He continued his plans for the orphanage and involved Gabrielle as usual, and even shared their "happy" news with the rest of his friends. She became worried, however, when she noticed he wasn't sleeping well. Dark circles soon appeared beneath his eyes and he seemed exhausted constantly. And he watched her like a hawk, rarely letting her out of his sight. She didn't know what he was so afraid of, but he was clearly nervous. Wherever she moved, he shadowed her, and Gabrielle got the impression that he would have been happier to carry her around rather than let her walk on her own. He watched everything she ate carefully, and wouldn't stop fussing if she only picked at her food. It was sweet, but he was clearly driving himself insane.

Marie also made plans, unbeknownst to Gabrielle and Enjolras, to move to Paris. Gabrielle thought it was a wonderful idea once she shared it with them, and Enjolras seemed relieved knowing his mother would be near, as well. Marie moved into her own apartment in less than a week, and Gabrielle was happy to have her husband and their home all to herself again.

One night, Enjolras was hard at work, going over paper work and finances for the orphanage as Gabrielle pretended to read. She gazed at him over the top of her book, watching his heavy eyes slip closed over and over again. He was practically falling asleep at his desk.

She rose and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around his shoulders from behind. "Antoine, you're falling asleep on top of your work. Why don't you go to bed, darling?"

"Once I lay down, I can't seem to sleep," he said quietly. "And there's so much to do, anyway."

Gabrielle sighed and kissed his cheek. "It's nothing that can't wait until tomorrow. Why are you having trouble sleeping?" She moved to perch lightly on the desk in front of him.

He frowned and looked at her like it was rather obvious. "Why do you think?"

"Are you really that unhappy?"

"No. It's not that I'm unhappy, Gabrielle. I'm _worried._"

Gabrielle took his hand and squeezed. "Well, let's take your mind off of it for a while. Will you take me to the orphanage tomorrow to see the work that's been done so far? I want to see where I'll be teaching."

Enjolras raised his eyebrows and gave her an incredulous look. "What do you mean, where you'll be teaching?"

"What do _you _mean?" she countered. "I was under the impression that was part of the plan..."

"Well, it was. But obviously, things have changed." He gestured to her stomach. "You can't possibly teach in your condition."

Gabrielle glared at him, her temper flaring. "Excuse me? I don't have a disease, Antoine, I'm having a _baby._ Just because Cosette closed herself up for months doesn't mean I intend to do the same thing!"

"But..."

"There are no 'buts!' There is absolutely no reason for you to treat me any different than before. I'm perfectly healthy and capable of doing anything you can, whether I am pregnant or not. I feel _wonderful_, actually."

Enjolras stood and crossed his arms, obviously trying his best to assert his authority. It may have worked on his friends, but it never worked very well on her. "Gabrielle, you're carrying our child. I don't want something to happen to you. I absolutely _insist _that you rest and relax until the baby is born. _After_, we can talk about you joining me again." He straightened up to his full height and held her gaze evenly.

Gabrielle's mouth fell open. "You hypocrite! What of all of that talk of equality between the sexes that we used to speak of? Now, because I'm pregnant, I'm suddenly reduced to being your little wife, who has to stay at home and raise our children?"

Enjolras looked confused. "What does _that_ have to do with this? And I never said that! I'm just worried about you, Gabrielle! Joly says stress and anxiety could cause complications or even the baby to come early. I don't want that. You need to rest."

"I need to do no such thing." Gabrielle stuck her chin out and crossed her own arms in imitation of him. "I refuse to be treated like some sort of fragile, breakable object. Haven't you ever thought about the women who work for a living, Antoine? Do you think they suddenly stop their lives because they're going to have a baby?"

Enjolras dropped his arms and leaned against the chair towards her. "But you're _not _one of those women, Gabrielle, and you don't _have _to work that hard."

"You don't want me to do anything at all!" She glared at him for a moment longer, but the flicker of worry that crossed his stoic face soon made her soften. "Antoine," she began again, trying to keep the annoyance from her voice, "I don't want to argue about this. I know you mean well. But why are you so worried? Absolutely nothing has gone wrong so far. I don't even feel sick anymore! And obviously, the baby is growing just fine." Gabrielle smoothed her skirt over her stomach to prove her point; it was rather obvious now that she was with child – in only a week, a small, but noticeable bump had appeared.

Enjolras shrugged and sat back down, pretending to go back to work and absently flipping the pages of his ledger back and forth. "I just am," he said shortly. "There are so many things that could go wrong."

"I wish you would talk to me, tell me what exactly you're afraid of..."

"I can't, Gabrielle. Not right now." Enjolras briefly looked up and met her eyes, and Gabrielle was surprised to see just how wild he looked. She hadn't seen such a sad, trapped look on his face since he was recovering from the barricade, and it made her heart constrict painfully knowing she was the cause of it. After a moment, he added grudgingly, "I'll take you to the orphanage tomorrow if you wish."

Gabrielle smiled and reached out to gently caress his cheek. "Thank you. And please, _please, _Antoine, don't worry about me. I'm fine! I even have more energy than usual now that I don't feel so sick all the time. Food even tastes good again! Everything is alright. You don't need to worry so much."

He nodded tersely and turned his head to kiss her palm. "Alright."

"I'm going to bed. I hope you'll join me soon." Gabrielle squeezed his shoulder before leaving the library. She undressed and climbed into bed with a heavy heart, wishing there was something she could do to help Enjolras come to terms with her pregnancy. It seemed like it might be something he needed to face on his own, however.

It was strange, though, how his reaction was the complete opposite to what she thought it would be. She had expected him to pull away or ignore the situation entirely, denying the baby's existence until its entrance into the world. He was hyper aware of it instead, asking Joly ridiculous questions about pregnancy and childbirth and scaring himself half to death with everything that could possibly go wrong. It was almost like self-inflicted torture, since he took everything so seriously anyway. Joly's hypochondriasis didn't help things, either.

After a few minutes, Enjolras came to bed, easing himself down beside her with a sigh. Gabrielle turned to face him and said quietly, "You know, Antoine...if you're so worried about me that you make yourself crazy, that is only going to make _me _worry about you."

"It's a vicious cycle."

"It doesn't have to be." Gabrielle snuggled close to his chest, resting her head just below his chin. "Everything is going to be fine."

He didn't respond, and Gabrielle was soon relieved to hear his soft, even breathing. Hopefully he would be able to rest.

* * *

_Enjolras knew he was asleep, because the lights of the Musain burned brightly, and he hadn't been back to the actual building since June in his waking hours. From his vantage point on the street, he could see into the window of the second story, where Prouvaire's silhouette shown dark against the candlelight. Laughter and a bit of drunken singing floated down to him in the street and he shook his head and grinned. Even though his usual reaction was to grimace and find a quiet corner to curl up in when his friends were like this, tonight it was a welcome sight to his troubled mind._

_ Enjolras entered the Musain's deserted first floor and made his way to the stairs in the back. When he reached the top, a great cheer went up and he winced. Embarrassed at the attention being lavished upon him, he awkwardly waved his hand and nodded at his friends, who were drunkenly draped all around the room._

_ "And who have we here? Our fearless leader, commander in arms, our stoic general, our chief...a man we were once convinced was carved from marble!" Courfeyrac stood on a rickety chair, a bottle of wine in his hand. He gestured wildly with the other. _

_ "That marble has cracked, my friends! A beautiful woman..." Here he looked pointedly at Feuilly, "...has, in less than one year, managed to domesticate and tame this wild Apollo. Now he is a husband, a _lover_, and, dare I say it? Soon to be a _father_?" Courfeyrac raised his glass to Enjolras and said loudly, "Cheers, mate! I'd ask how she is in bed, but Feuilly might kill me."_

_ "Or me," Enjolras glared. "You're talking about my _wife_, Courfeyrac, be a gentleman. And thank you for the congratulations?" Enjolras wasn't quite sure if Courfeyrac's words were sarcastic or serious. He had always had a hard time with that._

_ "You'd better watch out, Enjolras," Combeferre warned, "Or you and Gabrielle will be the subject of one of Jehan's love poems. I think he's out of ideas for Marius and Cosette."_

_ Enjolras smiled wryly and shrugged. "Write what you will. Your teasing doesn't bother me."_

_ Bossuet raised his eyebrows, leaning back precariously in his chair in his inebriated state. "It doesn't? Maybe he hasn't changed so much, after all, boys. No matter how hard we tried, we never could get under his skin."_

_ "Oh, he's changed," a voice spoke up from the corner, and Enjolras turned to see Grantaire sneering at him. "Are you all forgetting his little performance in the courtroom? When he betrayed all of us? When he pronounced his allegiance to our _king?" _Grantaire's eyes bore holes through Enjolras and a burning shame filled him. "The Enjolras I know would have rather died than betray his ideals. What are those things you used to hold dear, Enjolras? Libert__é__, egalit__é__, fraternit__é__?__ You obviously have different priorities now."_

_ Enjolras gaped and sputtered, "You were the one who suggested I lie!"_

_ Grantaire laughed and rolled his eyes. "Since when do you listen to me? Since when do you care what I say? You despise me, you've never tried to hide that. Lying is something I would have done, not you. The Enjolras I know would have stood by his actions and pretty words, no matter the consequences, even death."_

_ Enjolras felt wounded and more than a little ashamed. "I don't despise you, Grantaire. Perhaps you weren't always my favorite person, but I don't _despise _you. And you're probably right, that _is _what I would have done, but I was a different man then. I didn't have a family to go home to, someone else's happiness to think of..."_

_ "Enough of this, it should be a happy night." Feuilly broke in and grabbed Enjolras' arm, leading him over to a table in the corner and away from Grantaire. "We understand there's quite a bit of news happening out there lately. We hear our dear Marius is a father now."_

_ "Yes. He and Cosette have a son." Enjolras glanced around, feeling the unexpected need for a strong drink. Could you get drunk in a dream? God, he hoped so._

_ "That's really not surprising," Combeferre said as he joined them at the table. "He was raring to go, wasn't he? A regular Romeo."_

_ "You, on the other hand..." Feuilly lifted his glass in a mock salute to Enjolras. "Not only did I never picture you as a father, but my _sister? _I thought she was much too independent to tie herself down to a man and children..."_

_ "She says she was scared at first," Enjolras said quietly. "But she seems happy now."_

_ "And you?"_

_ "I'm..." Enjolras trailed off and stared at the table, frowning. How could he admit to Feuilly how he felt? How much he dreaded the birth of his child? How he dreaded having to share Gabrielle, which was ridiculously selfish, how scared he was that something would happen to her, how he would _hate _their child forever if something did, how he wasn't ready for the responsibility of being a father and caring for another person...he could go on._

_ "Baby Patria," Grantaire drawled. "Is that what you're going to call it, Enjolras? What a fitting name, for a child of the barricade...the barricade you seem to have forgotten, of course."_

_ "I've forgotten nothing!" Enjolras snapped. "And if you open your mouth again, Grantaire, so help me..."_

_ Grantaire laughed. "What can you do to me, Enjolras? I'm already dead."_

_ "And obviously resting peacefully," Courfeyrac drawled sarcastically. "Pay him no mind, Enjolras. He's just cranky. But Baby Patria has a nice ring to it." Courfeyrac nudged him, obviously enjoying the teasing._

_ "Are you nervous?" Combeferre asked._

_ "To put it mildly," Enjolras admitted. "This isn't...well, this isn't what I wanted. It just seems like a complication right now."_

_ "So you aren't happy at all?"_

_ "No," Enjolras said quietly. "I don't know what I am, but I wouldn't call it happy."_

_ "Why not? Babies are joyous things!" Grantaire grinned. "And I'm sure Baby Patria will be quite a prodigy. Leading rallies and giving speeches by the time he's three. Maybe he'll pick up the torch you've dropped, Enjolras."_

_ Enjolras slowly turned and glared at Grantaire, gritting his teeth. "Why are you in such a mood tonight, Grantaire?"_

_ "Wouldn't you like to know?" he mumbled._

_ "Well, in any case," Feuilly said lightly, "I'm quite happy for you. And Gabrielle. You know, I bet she's just as nervous as you, Enjolras. It's not as if she has an example to think of when it comes to being a mother."_

_ "No, I suppose she doesn't," Enjolras agreed. "Do you really think she's nervous? She doesn't seem so."_

_ "She's probably hiding it from you," Feuilly said. "I remember talking to her once, when she first started working for the de Sauveterre's, and I asked her if she would be content raising someone else's children rather than her own. She just laughed at me and said 'better theirs than mine.' She told me she would never have children because she couldn't bear the thought of leaving them alone like our parents did to us."_

_ Enjolras was silent. He didn't know what to make of that. Had she ever said any such thing to him?_

_ "Really? She wants this baby."_

_ Feuilly smiled. "Well, I'm glad for that. She'll be a wonderful mother. But I'm sure that's still a fear for her...leaving her child alone. She cried for five days straight when our parents died. I don't think she remembers it, she's blocked that time out. But I remember."_

_ "She's never talked about that at all," Enjolras said quietly, and suddenly realized that there was quite a lot about his wife's past that he didn't know. He'd never bothered to ask._

_ "Maybe you should talk about it. It's obvious you're scared to death to become a father," Combeferre offered. "Maybe if you see she's a bit scared, too, it will make you feel better. And then you can just be scared together. But, often, the _sharing itself _makes people stronger."_

_ Enjolras locked eyes with Combeferre. God, how he missed his friend. He was always able to make Enjolras see sense, even when others couldn't. Gabrielle had somewhat taken over that role, but it was different._

_ "I miss you," Enjolras said quietly, and blushed. He never would have expressed that in anything other than a dream._

_ Combeferre clapped him on the shoulder and said kindly, "Why? I'm right here. We all are, whenever you need us."_

_ "In my head?" Enjolras rolled his eyes. "That's not quite the same."_

_ "Who says we're only in your head?" Grantaire broke in again, taking a long swig from his bottle. "Who says we aren't haunting you? Maybe you'll never be able to get rid of me."_

_ "That wouldn't be so bad," Enjolras said kindly, and was satisfied to see a look of surprise flash across Grantaire's face._

_ "You should be going now, though, Enjolras," Feuilly said. "It's not good for you to spend too much time here. And I suppose I should tell you to give my sister my best, but...it is just a dream, after all."_

_ Enjolras rose and shrugged. "All the same...good night, boys." Enjolras walked to the stairs, and with one last longing glance over his shoulder, descended the steps and continued out once more into the night._

* * *

The next day, Enjolras took Gabrielle to the orphanage as promised. It was only a ten minute walk from their home, and Enjolras was glad it was so close. That would be convenient for both of them eventually. They walked slowly through the rooms of the somewhat dilapidated old mansion, and Enjolras was happy to see the progress that had already been made to clean the place up. At least all of the cobwebs and dust were gone.

"It's still rather dark and gloomy, though, isn't it?" Gabrielle wrinkled her nose, looking around the large room Enjolras pictured as one of the dormitories. "You don't expect children to sleep here as it is, do you?"

"No, of course not. But just think, once the floor and walls have been scrubbed clean, some fresh paint applied...then it won't be so bad."

"How many beds do you think will fit in here? Fifteen?" Gabrielle walked around the room, trying to picture the space in her head as it would be.

"At the most. Do you think we'll have that many children so fast?"

"I really don't know. But, Antoine, I was thinking..." Gabrielle turned and looked at him seriously. "You know, I really think we should expect more _babies _than anything. The children that are already on the street...well, I just don't see them coming here, or _staying _here. They barely have anything to do with their parents and there's no one around to force them. But if I were a young girl with a little baby that I couldn't care for...? Well, there's something cruel about abandoning a baby on the street. A child at least has a chance to take care of itself, to find food and shelter. But if there was a place like this open to me as a desperate and starving mother, of course I would drop my baby on the doorstep and run away."

Enjolras crossed to a window and peered into the garden below, thinking. Eventually, he said quietly, "You're probably right. I guess we won't know until we open the doors. But I don't quite know what to prepare for."

Gabrielle walked to his side and took his hand. "We'll do the best we can. You've already done amazing things. I can see what you see here."

"I've gotten several more investors this week, old friends of my fathers. It does help to know people. And, of course, Durand's group of friends is very interested, as well."

"See what you can do when you put your mind to something?" Gabrielle smiled widely at him and squeezed his hand. "Oh! I forgot to tell you. Musichetta wants to work here. She told me so the other day. She wants to help take care of the children during the day."

Enjolras cocked his head and said curiously, "Musichetta? With children? That...doesn't seem like her."

Gabrielle smiled knowingly and said softly, "She has her reasons. She'll be good at it."

"I don't doubt that. If she really wants to, then of course."

"Good, I'll tell her. Really, Antoine, you have no idea how remarkable she really is. Hopefully she'll tell you herself someday."

Enjolras smiled and wrapped an arm around Gabrielle's shoulders. "I'll take your word for it."

They were quiet for a minute and Gabrielle felt content just to be in his arms.

"Gabrielle?" Enjolras asked, a bit of hesitation in his voice.

"Hm?"

"Do you remember your parents?"

She pulled away to look up at him, her brow furrowed. "Some. I remember little things..."

"What do you remember?" Enjolras asked, a serious and pensive look on his face.

Gabrielle cocked her head, wondering what was causing this line of questioning. He had never asked about her childhood before, except for wondering about small things, like what her favorite book had been. "Well...I remember the way my father would carry me if we were walking somewhere, how it felt to be so high up in his arms. I remember my mother's smell. I remember playing games at night, when they were both home from work. Things like that."

"Do you remember when they died?"

"Why are you asking?" Gabrielle found herself not wanting to answer him. She couldn't even remember the last time she had spoken about her parents, and she had _never _told anyone about the day they died or the aftermath. Only her brother knew about that time in her life, and she preferred to keep it that way. It wasn't pleasant to think about.

"I just...well, you've never told me before. I suppose knowing we're going to have a baby has made me think about my own childhood, and wonder about yours." Enjolras turned and sat on the windowsill, bringing him eye level with Gabrielle. "But if it's painful for you, you don't have to tell me," he reassured her.

Gabrielle bit her lip contemplatively, and said softly, "I've never really talked about it before. It's not that I don't want you to know, I just...I don't really know what to say."

"How did they die?"

"I don't know what they had, but they were sick. I was, too. I just remember burning up with fever for days, I was delirious. I think they thought I was going to die. They sent Alexandre to live with a neighbor so he would be away and hopefully stay well, but they both stayed with me. I had just begun to get better when they got sick."

Gabrielle shuddered, remembering with startling clarity the day they died. "I was still too sick to move, really...I remember laying in bed, crying for water, seeing them across the room in their bed. I called for them, but they never moved. I didn't really know then, that they were dead. I didn't understand. I was only five." She raised her eyes and met Enjolras' gaze. "A neighbor heard me crying that night, and came to check. Alexandre said I cried for five days, and almost drove him mad. But he took care of me after that. I don't remember that time, though, I suppose I've just blocked it out..."

Enjolras leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'm sorry, Gabrielle. It must be difficult to think about."

"Yes." Gabrielle leaned against Enjolras and said softly, "But at the same time, it's not, because I know it's over. I have a completely different life now with you."

"Are you scared?" Enjolras wondered. "Of becoming a mother?"

Gabrielle looked at him and smiled, knowing this line of questioning was more about trying to make sense of his own fears than hers. "Of course. I'm terrified. Even Cosette was scared, and I'm sure Marius was, too. It's life changing...even when you know it's for the better, change is difficult."

Enjolras took a deep breath and said quietly, "How do you know it's for the better?"

Gabrielle couldn't help the hurt she felt at his question, but she tried to respect his feelings and remember that, so far, he had never done anything to intentionally hurt her. And he was trying to talk to her, which was difficult for him on a good day. Still, knowing that he didn't want their child was painful.

"I...I don't, I suppose. It's perspective, really. I'm looking at it as a good thing, I'm choosing to be happy. But I can't make you feel the same way."

He looked at her sadly and whispered, "I'm sorry. I know this hurts you. I'm trying, Gabrielle, but...I just don't know what to do. I don't know how to be a father. I don't know what to _do _with children, how to treat them."

Gabrielle raised her eyebrows and said slowly, "You do realize you're starting an orphanage? One that's going to be filled? With children? Little ones? And teaching them?"

"Yes, but they're not mine..."

Gabrielle held up her hand, feeling her temper flare unexpectedly. "Then you need to start changing the way you think, Antoine. No, technically, these children aren't yours. But they will look to you, and to the other adults here, for guidance and advice. You'll have to discipline them like you will your own. You'll have to comfort them when they need it, and play with them, and show them love. So, really, you're fighting something you're going to have to do soon, anyway, in order to make this place succeed."

Gabrielle took a deep breath and glared at the wall, feeling more than a little annoyed at how absolutely clueless her husband could sometimes be, and how wrapped up in himself. This was exactly why his revolution had failed, because he couldn't see the people behind his words. He saw the dream, not the reality.

Enjolras was silent, staring at her with a slightly stunned look on his face. Gabrielle realized she wasn't finished and grabbed his hand, placing it firmly on her swollen stomach. "This baby," she said passionately, "is going to love you, Antoine. He or she is going to worship you, because that's how children _feel _about their fathers. She'll want your attention and your time and your love. If you can't give it, you _will _break your child's heart. And mine. Just so you know."

Enjolras continued to stare at her, his hand still resting on her stomach. Gabrielle sighed, feeling relief wash over at her now that she had spoken her mind. She felt no need to apologize, either, as she usually did when she was harsh with Enjolras. He was a man, and he could take it. And sooner or later, he needed to come to terms with the things he couldn't control.

"You can take me home now," Gabrielle said quietly, and took his hand to try and let him know she wasn't really angry. He nodded and rose, still looking a bit shell-shocked, and they silently left the building, each lost in their own thoughts.

* * *

**This chapter is full of angst - poor Enjolras!**

**Hope you enjoyed the Les Amis reappearance (again)! They'll be back, especially Grantaire, before the story is over. He's kinda got a beef to pick with Enjolras, obviously. And y'all got to hear a little bit more about Gabrielle, which I debated on whether or not to throw in, but decided was good to help explain something she's going to say to Enjolras a little later. :) Gosh, life was hard back then, huh? Makes for easy drama.**

**By the way, have I mentioned how much I truly enjoy talking with you guys? I love your reviews and the PMs and conversations we have going. My readers have never been so interesting before! I love it! Please drop me a review if you haven't, I want to taaaaaaaaalk. Ask me questions, give me suggestions (keep the baby names coming, you never know, I might change my mind), and just be generally awesome as you have been. Hope you enjoyed the chapter! **

**~Aimee**


	28. Chapter XXVIII

Chapter XXVIII

After her initial visit to the orphanage, Gabrielle began to go back daily, helping to clean and ready the building for the children who would (hopefully) soon fill its rooms. April slowly turned into May, and Gabrielle found that her growing stomach didn't bother her in the slightest; in fact, she found she rather enjoyed being pregnant. She felt healthy and filled with a somewhat over-zealous energy. Sometimes she wondered if she was trying to make up for Enjolras' lack of enthusiasm.

He was still very quiet, and no matter how much she prodded, poked, and tried to get him to talk, he only would when _he_ felt like it. Gabrielle accepted that, for the most part, and let him deal with things on his own. If he wanted to open up to her, she knew he would. She wondered, though, how the rapidly approaching first anniversary of the barricade would effect him. He hadn't mentioned it yet, though it was now halfway through May, and Gabrielle found herself thinking of the events of last year quite often. Her mind constantly wandered back to where she had been at this time last year, how she had reveled in hearing Enjolras speak and rally the crowds that came to hear him, how she had snuck away so often from her job to meet with her brother and his friends, and how she had been so sure that Enjolras was going to change the world. She remembered thinking of him as a new Alexander, someone who could conquer entire nations and climb the highest mountains if he wanted to.

And in a way, he had changed the world, at least for her. Her life would be the same because of him. But more so, the world had changed Enjolras. Gabrielle wondered if that was what he was fighting so adamantly against all along – her husband wasn't good at accepting things as they were; he felt the need to fight against them, to shape and mold them into exactly what he wanted them to be. Acceptance without resistance wasn't his strong suit.

Her own fears about having a baby had mostly been erased by her wonderful friends; Gabrielle felt certain that no matter what happened, they would take care of her and her child. Cosette, Musichetta, Genevieve, and Marie all came quite often to help at the orphanage, as well; Cosette either left the baby at home with his nurse to have a bit of time to herself or sometimes brought him with her, working with him cradled against her chest in a cocoon-like sling.

They laughed and talked as they worked: scrubbing floors, painting walls, making beds, folding clothes they had bought themselves or been donated, and trying to make the large and overwhelming mansion seem as friendly to children as possible.

"When do you expect the orphanage to open, Gabrielle?" Cosette asked one day. She, Musichetta, and Gabrielle were attempting to organize the kitchen, though Gabrielle was walking back and forth with a fussy Jean in her arms. Cosette insisted she practice.

"Antoine thinks we could be ready in a month. It's so hard to know how many children we'll have." Jean let out a particularly piercing wail and Gabrielle winced, gently bouncing him on her shoulder.

Cosette seemed unfazed by her son's cries. "Have you hired enough people, do you think? You know I can always come and help, though I might have to bring Jean along."

"What's one more child?" Musichetta laughed. "I'm sure Gabrielle's baby will be here quite often, too."

Jean began to cry louder and Gabrielle sighed, looking to Cosette for help. "Cosette, how do you get him to stop? I don't know what to do."

Cosette smiled and admitted, "Neither do I, Gabrielle. Sometimes he just cries. I just fed and changed him...just keep trying. He always quiets eventually."

"Maybe his stomach is upset," Musichetta offered. "It used to help Sophie when I held her like this..." Musichetta rearranged Jean in Gabrielle's arms and told her to keep walking, and after about five minutes, Jean had stopped crying and fallen asleep.

Cosette grinned. "I may need to borrow you, Musichetta. Sometimes he cries all night and I don't know what to do."

"That won't last forever," Musichetta said reassuringly.

Gabrielle could tell that Cosette was curious about Musichetta and how she seemed to know so much about taking care of a baby, but was too polite to ask too many questions. They didn't know each other that well.

"Cosette, isn't it strange?" Gabrielle mused. "At this time last year, you had just met Marius. Now you already have a child."

"Believe me, I never thought things could change so quickly!" Cosette laughed. "It's quite different for you, too, of course."

"True," Gabrielle mused.

"Have you felt the baby move yet?" Musichetta asked curiously.

"Yes," Gabrielle said. "At first it was just like you described to me, Cosette – like little wings fluttering. But now I can feel real kicks, especially at night when I'm trying to sleep. It feels so strange."

"But wonderful, isn't it?" Cosette sighed. "That's when it became real to me. And for Marius. Has Enjolras felt it yet?"

"No. I haven't even told him. He's still...well." Gabrielle shrugged. "He'll come around." Gabrielle was about to say more when she heard Enjolras' distinct footsteps in the hall. He stopped in the doorway and said hello to Musichetta and Cosette, and nodded at Gabrielle.

"Are you almost ready to go, love?" he asked. "I thought I would take you home."

"In a little while," Gabrielle replied, walking to his side. She swiftly, but carefully deposited Jean into Enjolras' arms before he even knew what was happening and said happily, "Here, hold the baby for a while. It's time you practiced."

Enjolras froze and glanced down at the sleeping baby, awkwardly holding him out for Gabrielle to take back, protestations on the tip of his tongue. Gabrielle shook her head and gently pushed Jean closer to Enjolras' chest before he could say anything.

"Hold his head like this and then put your hand here." She helped Enjolras hold Jean against his shoulder, and rubbed the baby's back. "See? It isn't so bad. He's even still asleep."

Enjolras barely moved, looking stiff and uncomfortable. "What do I do?"

Musichetta laughed at him, but Cosette said kindly, "Nothing, really. He likes it when you walk a bit, and rub his back. It's not so hard, Enjolras, you look like a natural."

Gabrielle smirked at Cosette's lie, but had to admit that it gave her a peculiar, warm feeling in her stomach to watch Enjolras awkwardly try and do what Cosette said. At least he was trying. He _had_ been better lately, giving her more freedom and not breathing down her neck. He never said anything about her working, either, though he always made sure to be at the orphanage when she was to make sure she was never alone. Truthfully, she didn't mind that; it seemed like a good compromise.

Maybe he was really starting to accept things, she thought. Maybe he really wanted to try and be a good father.

Gabrielle busied herself helping Musichetta and Cosette again, glancing surreptitiously up at Enjolras every once in a while. She didn't want to stare at him and make him even more uncomfortable, but she couldn't help watching him, either, images of him with their own child filling her head.

"He's so small," Enjolras finally said, a bit of wonder in his voice.

"And he's already grown quite a lot," Cosette said. "He's already eight weeks old! Time is flying by, really. Your baby will be here before you know it. Aren't you about halfway there, Gabrielle?"

"Yes, about," Gabrielle said softly, and her eyes met Enjolras' as Jean began to fuss against his shoulder. Enjolras didn't panic, and carefully lowered the baby, cradling him in his arms. Jean did look small against Enjolras' chest and Gabrielle bit her lip, feeling encouraged for the first time in weeks. Enjolras held Jean with one arm and let the baby latch onto a finger on his other hand, which Jean promptly stuck into his mouth. Gabrielle crossed the room and stood on tiptoe to lightly kiss her husband's cheek. "You look good with him. He's not so frightening, is he? He's quite sweet, see how he's looking at you?"

"Yes," Enjolras admitted, but look relieved to hand Jean back to Gabrielle, who then gave the baby to Cosette.

"You both should go home, too. Thank you for all of your help." Gabrielle hugged Musichetta and Cosette goodbye, and took Enjolras' arm as they left, her mind a jumble of images of Enjolras as a father, all three of them as a family: she could see them tucking their child in to sleep at night, playing in the garden, having a picnic in the park. She hadn't let herself picture any of that yet, but now she couldn't stop. She hoped that was what it would be, rather than a distant Enjolras consumed with work while she cared for the baby on her own.

Enjolras helped her climb into their waiting _fiacre, _which Gabrielle had to admit was getting harder the larger she got. Enjolras wrapped his arm around her shoulders once they were both settled. The fiacre jolted into motion and Gabrielle rested her hand on Enjolras' leg, tracing circles on his knee. Seeing him hold Jean had left her wanting him badly, even though he hadn't seemed very interested in being with her lately, which stung.

After a minute, Enjolras spoke. "Almost halfway there, hm?" He sounded strangely composed, and gave her a sideways glance.

"Yes. You've seemed a bit more calm lately. Are you feeling better about everything?"

"I'm trying. I've accepted it, although sometimes it still doesn't seem real."

"It's real to me. Just look at me," Gabrielle sighed. "Just when I think I can't possibly get any bigger, I do. I'm not exactly attractive right now..."

Enjolras smiled and turned his head to gently nuzzle her neck, completely surprising Gabrielle. "You're perfect," he said sincerely. "In fact, I've never found you more beautiful."

Gabrielle closed her eyes as his lips sucked gently at her neck, shooting desire straight through her. "Liar," she sighed, and huffed when Enjolras pulled away to look at her, affronted.

"I don't lie to you," he said simply. "You know that. If I didn't find you beautiful, would you still be able to do this to me?" He took her hand and placed it on his groin. Gabrielle felt Enjolras' hardening erection through his pants and grinned.

"I suppose not." She squeezed and began to rub his arousal, earning a satisfied groan from Enjolras. "Although your lack of attention in that area lately has made me wonder. I _do_ hope you don't have any plans for this evening, Monsieur."

"Only ones that involve you," he mumbled.

"Me?" she asked innocently. "What are you planning to do with me?"

Enjolras grinned and leaned forward, pressing his lips against her ear. He began to whisper his plans, alternating between light kisses against her jaw. His breath tickled her ear and she shivered, biting her lip in anticipation. Enjolras' hands wandered to her breasts, and Gabrielle blushed profusely at the things he said.

"Oh," Gabrielle finally whispered, pleasurably scandalized, and Enjolras laughed wickedly before pressing his lips against hers. He kissed her hard and possessively, putting his hands on either side of her neck. When they arrived home, he lifted her down from the _fiacre_ and led her inside. Gabrielle tingled in anticipation from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

Enjolras closed the front door behind them and immediately wrapped his arms around her from behind. She pressed against him, grinding her hips against his arousal, and Enjolras grunted, trying to be gentle as he began removing her dress. His hands fumbled as he tried to unbutton his own waistcoat and Gabrielle turned around to help him.

"It's been a while since we've done this," Gabrielle said quietly, and Enjolras nodded.

"I was nervous," he said. "I'm still worried about hurting you."

"Well, we just need to be a little creative. But we can still enjoy each other." Gabrielle grinned as Enjolras finally pulled his shirt off. She ran her hands up his chest and he leaned down to kiss her again as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Their kiss continued as they stumbled into the library, and she moaned as his tongue explored her mouth.

Gabrielle felt her back hit the edge of the desk and Enjolras quickly wrapped his arms around her to steady her. She leaned back as Enjolras kissed his way down her body, lingering on her full breasts. As he licked and bit at her nipples, he reached down and gently inserted two fingers inside of her, massaging her folds and slowly rubbing her sensitive clit. Gabrielle squeezed her eyes shut and threw her head back, gasping his name. She craved him, but was glad Enjolras' fingers were almost as talented as his mouth. Her climax built intensely as he continued to slowly thrust his fingers inside of her and she begged him to continue, writhing against him. His other hand firmly held her upright against the desk.

Gabrielle ran her hands down his body, grasped his manhood and squeezed, pulling and stroking at him as he was doing to her. Enjolras hissed, his own movements stalling as she touched him, and he slid his fingers out of her. Enjolras leaned down and kissed her deeply, then gently took her shoulders and turned her around. She braced herself against the desk, pressing her bottom against his erection.

Enjolras growled low in his throat and leaned over, kissing her back and grabbing her hips. He slowly thrust into her from behind, and reached around to tease her hardened nipples with one hand. "Gabrielle," he moaned into her ear and bit at her shoulder, and she pressed harder against him, bracing against the desk as his thrusts grew deeper.

She reached around and put one hand on the back of his neck, tangling her fingers in his curls. "Why haven't we been doing this lately?" she mumbled, and felt him smile against her skin as he continued to slowly move in and out of her. He held her hips firmly and her breath sped up as she neared her climax.

"Faster, Antoine," she urged, and he complied, pushing rapidly into her. She spasmed around him as he reached his own orgasm and spilled into her, and Gabrielle sighed in satisfaction after her release. She turned her head and their lips met in a slow and sensual kiss. Enjolras had indeed made her feel beautiful.

* * *

Even though it was May, the night was still a bit chilly, and Enjolras built up a small fire in the library. They settled down together on the thick rug, piled on top of blankets and pillows Gabrielle dragged in. Gabrielle snuggled into his arms, pulling her dressing gown closed around her and resting comfortably against him. She kissed Enjolras' bare chest and traced one of the scars from his bullet wounds, bringing her mind back to the barricade. His grip tightened on her hip and she knew it made him think of the same thing.

She felt like a wall between them had finally been torn down tonight, one she hadn't even really known was there until it was gone, and she was practically shaking with relief. Still, she was nervous to broach the subject of the baby, wondering if he would clam up again and this new-found intimacy would be gone.

"We need a nursery," she finally said quietly. "And clothes, if we don't want our baby to be naked all the time."

Enjolras managed a small smile and said, "I know. We need everything. I don't even know what babies need."

"Neither do I. We're quite a pair," she laughed. "But we've managed so far, haven't we? Look how far we've come in less than a year."

"It's almost June," Enjolras suddenly said, and Gabrielle looked up at him, hearing the fear in his voice, and knowing exactly what he meant.

"I know."

His hold on her tightened as he bowed his head. "I was so full of myself at this time last year. Everything was going according to plan. I was convinced we would win."

"Were you?" Gabrielle asked. She had never voiced this before, but something her brother had said to her once had always stayed with her. "Because my brother...well..." she hesitated, and said seriously, "He told me once that he thought you were the only one that really understood the risk of what you were doing. He thought you maybe expected to die."

Enjolras looked at her, a bit stunned. "I...I don't know if I did. I did know the risk, I understood what was at stake. But does anyone _really_ expect to die? We're too egotistical when it comes right down to it. Humans are convinced we're invincible."

"Are you still convinced of that?"

"No," he whispered. "That's why I'm so terrified." Enjolras looked at the fire, snapping his jaw closed, his lips in a thin line. Gabrielle waited patiently until he was ready to continue.

He finally said softly, "Gabrielle, I...I killed my friends. I killed good men, men who deserve life more than I do."

Gabrielle sat up and took his face in her hands. She had been worried these feelings would resurface as the first anniversary of the barricade approached, piled on top of the stress and anxiety he felt about her pregnancy. "Antoine, no. We've been over this, my love, so many times. You led them, yes, but they willingly followed."

"They trusted me. They looked to me for guidance. They called me their chief." His eyes were dull as he looked at her and Gabrielle felt her throat grow tight, seeing his pain. "I've let so many people down."

"You haven't let me down," Gabrielle said passionately. "_Never._"

"Yes, I have," he said miserably, and looked pointedly down at her stomach. "I know I have."

Gabrielle swallowed. She couldn't lie – his unhappiness, reluctance, and sometimes indifference towards her pregnancy had hurt. But, she had such faith in him that she never doubted that he would eventually come around. He was too good, and loved her too much, to let her down for good.

"It has hurt me," she said reluctantly, and he immediately lowered his eyes, too ashamed to look at her. She took his chin and leaned forward to gently press her lips to his. "Look at me," she commanded softly.

He slowly raised his gaze to hers and she continued, "Antoine, I know you. Sometimes it surprises me, and I think it surprises you, at just how well. You are my soul, you are my partner. And I've never doubted that you would come around. In the end, you'll never let me down. You don't break your promises."

His eyes blazed for a moment and she could tell he was grateful to her for her unwavering faith in him. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth, and Gabrielle could tell she was about to hear another confession.

"I don't hate the idea of us having a baby, Gabrielle," he admitted softly. "This baby is a part of you, and I could never hate _anything _that's part of you. What I'm most scared of is losing you. I'm just afraid, unbelievably terrified. Should I really be _allowed_ to be happy, after what I did, after leading so many people to their deaths? If something happened to you, if...I mean, childbirth, it's precarious at best..." He swallowed, his chest heaving with emotion. "Losing you would be my worst punishment."

Gabrielle looked at him, stunned, and deeply moved. Suddenly, his hovering and months of worry made perfect sense.

"You think you deserve that," she whispered, and he nodded tersely as she immediately understood the truth at the heart of his words. "Oh..."

She didn't know what to say, didn't know how to reassure or comfort him.

He continued, "And...how can I possibly be entrusted to raise a child? To protect another human life, especially one so helpless? My friends followed me, looked up to me, and so will our child. I don't deserve to be a father. I don't deserve a child's love or adoration. And I can't help but feel that, because of that, because of what I've done, something is going to go wrong." He closed his eyes, and suddenly looked ten years older after his confession.

Gabrielle wrapped her arms around him. Everything made perfect sense now, and she didn't know why she hadn't realized the heart of the matter much sooner. He was such a martyr, so hard on himself, and tried to be so strong. But even the strongest stone could crack.

Gabrielle reached out and pulled him close. She didn't have any words that could possibly comfort him. His arms slowly encircled her and he rested his head against her shoulder. "I love you," she said softly. "And I swear to you, Antoine, I will never leave you. Not willingly." She knew it was a promise that she couldn't necessarily keep – death had seemed to nip at her heels since she was a child. First her parents, then little Louisa de Sauveterre, then her brother, the other _Les Amis_...life was never a guarantee in a world such as theirs. And he was right; it was all too common for women to die in childbirth.

And for babies to die.

That thought was suddenly more terrifying than any other, and she felt fear grip her. She wasn't strong like Musichetta. If she lost her child, Gabrielle didn't think she could bear it, not after losing so many other people, too. Gabrielle pulled away a bit to look at Enjolras and said fiercely, "You have to promise me something, and it's going to be hard for you."

"You know I'd do anything for you."

"If something _should_ happen to me...or if it's a choice between me and the baby, _you choose this baby."_

His eyes widened as he looked at her and he shook his head. "No. I won't promise that. I refuse to promise that, Gabrielle," he said emphatically. He suddenly looked furious, and turned to glare at the fire.

His eyes shined with emotion and Gabrielle sighed, running her fingers through his hair. She decided not to push him, but she knew he had heard her wishes. She hoped it would never come to a choice like that, but with the way their lives had unfolded so far, she didn't necessarily trust in a happy ending. Still, Enjolras needed her to be strong, needed her to be optimistic, because that feeling was most definitely not his strong suit.

He had been prepared to accept death a year ago, she mused, and even with all of the good things that had happened to them in the last year, he was still struggling to accept life.

"Antoine," she suddenly said, "in a way, it's rather beautiful..." She smiled at the realization, at the strange poetry of their situation.

"What?" He turned back to her, his eyes still troubled.

"You're right – your friends did lose their lives. Maybe it was partly your fault. Whether it really was or not, you've accepted responsibility for it, and put that weight on your shoulders. You took lives." Gabrielle's hands moved to her stomach, feeling a deep connection to the little soul growing inside of her. "Now you've helped to give someone else life. Isn't there something a little bit beautiful in that?"

Enjolras stared at her for a moment, unmoving, and then swiftly pulled her close to him. He kissed her forehead, then both of her cheeks, her nose, her lips, and then bent down, pushing the sides of her dressing gown open and exposing her swollen stomach. He pressed his lips to the skin just above her navel and Gabrielle felt tears sting her eyes.

"You always have the strangest way of putting things in perspective for me," he said quietly, and kissed her stomach again. "I love you. I won't let either of you down."

"I know." Gabrielle drew him back up to her and their lips met, sealing his promise and her faith in him.

* * *

**Ahhem. Hello, there. I am the self-professed queen of drama and angst. Obviously, y'all are okay with that because you're still here. This chapter was a heavy one.**

**BUT, also an important one. Lots of character development here, and our dear Enjolras is finally getting to where he needs to be to become fully "enlightened." :) I see about four chapters left before the end. Maybe five? I can't believe you are all still here, reading and reviewing faithfully, and I really, really, truly thank you from the bottom of my heart. You guys are awesome.**

**Please let me know what you think about this chapter and where these characters are going/have come from. Like I said, I didn't just throw a baby into this mix to add more drama; I really think Enjolras accepting responsibility for another life is indicative of his healing from the barricade, and beginning to trust in and believe in himself again. It is HARD being responsible for another human being. Anywho. Review! Please. :)**

**~Aimee**


	29. Chapter XXIX

Chapter XXIX

"Gabrielle, wake up." Gabrielle's eyes fluttered sleepily open to see Enjolras hovering over her. He looked unbelievably handsome in his crimson jacket, a color he had taken to wearing again lately. She figured it was his way to silently acknowledge and remind himself of the barricade daily, though she doubted he could forget, anyway. Gabrielle yawned and looked around at the afternoon sunlight streaming in, realizing she must have fallen asleep in the library.

"What time is it?" she mumbled, and sat up, wincing at the ache she felt in her back from sleeping on the sofa.

"It's just after 3. Did you have a nice nap?" Enjolras smirked a bit, knowing full well he was the reason she was too tired to go to the orphanage that day and couldn't seem to stay awake.

"Very. And I can assure you I _will _be sleeping well tonight, Monsieur. Your very pregnant wife needs her rest." She playfully pushed at his shoulder and he laughed, capturing her hand and raising it to his lips.

"You had as much fun last night as I did. And I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise? What?!" Gabrielle grinned, her sleepiness forgotten.

"Come and see." Enjolras pulled her up from the sofa and covered her eyes with his hands, slowly leading her into the hall. "Don't peek," he ordered sternly, and took his hands away to open the door. Gabrielle kept her eyes closed as he took her hand and helped her into the room, and finally he said quietly, "Alright. You can open them now."

Gabrielle opened her eyes and gasped. A beautiful crib stood in the corner, and the larger bed that usually occupied their second bedroom was gone. "Antoine...you..." Gabrielle looked at him and laughed, tears stinging her eyes. "When did you buy this? And how did you get it here without me noticing? It's beautiful!"

She walked over to the crib and ran her fingers over the dark cherry wood. She could just imagine laying their baby down to sleep at night, standing over the edge to watch him or her fall asleep...

Gabrielle turned around and threw her arms around Enjolras' neck, kissing him soundly. "Thank you."

"Do you like it? We can always get something different, but you mentioned that we need a nursery, so I thought I could try and make a start..."

"No, I love it! It's staying right here." She kissed his cheek and cupped his face. "See? I knew you would come around."

He jerked his head towards their bedroom and smiled. "There's something else in there."

"Something else?!" Gabrielle exclaimed, and took his hand, pulling him into their bedroom next. She found a tiny cradle next to their bed, made from the same dark wood as the crib. She knelt down and rocked it gently, looking up at him. "This was so thoughtful of you, Antoine. Thank you."

He shrugged and perched on the edge of the bed, watching her. "Musichetta said I should get both, that for the first few months, the baby should probably sleep in our room. It was her, really, I had no idea what I was doing."

Gabrielle laughed. "That doesn't matter. I love them both, thank you." She looked back down at the cradle and nudged it to rock. "There's going to be a baby in this in a few months," she whispered. "Have you really thought about it at all?"

"Really? It's all I can think about."

Gabrielle smiled and rubbed her stomach. "Have you thought about what you want? A boy or a girl?"

"I don't know...I suppose a boy would be nice. I don't think I'd know what to do with a girl," he admitted. "Obviously, the fairer sex has always been a bit of a mystery to me."

Gabrielle couldn't help the laugh that escaped her, remembering how chaste and gentlemanly Enjolras always was and the way he could barely meet her eyes when they first met. "That is true, you'll be quite out of your league if it's a girl."

A peculiar happiness came over Gabrielle as they talked, and she realized how much she had wanted to have these kinds of conversations with him all along. "I'm glad you can talk about this now. _Thank you _for trying so hard for me."

Enjolras leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "It's good for me, I think. I should face my fears and whatnot, as Combeferre would say."

Gabrielle moved to sit beside him on the bed and reached out a hand to play with the curls at the nape of his neck. "I hope, whether it's a boy or a girl, that it looks like you."

Enjolras looked at her, the corner of his mouth quirked upward. "And I want the exact opposite. I can see that, actually..." He sighed and took her hand, playing with her fingers. "A little girl with your dark curly hair, running through the house. And if she's anything like you at all, she'll be able to make me bend to her will with just a look."

Gabrielle laughed. "I do have a talent for that. It would be nice to pass it on." Her hand moved to her stomach as she felt a particularly hard series of kicks begin, and she looked uncertainly at Enjolras. "The baby is moving right now," she said quietly. "I can feel it kicking."

His eyes widened. "You can actually feel it moving?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes, all the time now, especially if I'm sitting still. You can feel it, if you want," Gabrielle said uncertainly. "But you don't have to."

Enjolras glanced up at her and nodded, suddenly looking nervous. "I want to."

Gabrielle took both of his hands and placed them on her stomach, keeping her own hands covering his. The baby was still moving vigorously, and she knew exactly when Enjolras felt it against his palms. His face grew pale, but full of wonder, and he scooted closer, his eyes never leaving her stomach. "That's..." He blew out a soft breath and shook his head, obviously at a loss for words.

Gabrielle watched him carefully, and was happy to see no trace of panic or unhappiness in his eyes. He was clearly fascinated.

"What do you think?" she finally asked.

"I think it's incredible," he mumbled, his brow furrowed. "Of all the amazing things in the universe, of all the things I've read about – about science, and life, and politics, and history – this is by far the most _insane _thing I've ever felt. I just can't make sense of it." He shook his head again as he felt the baby kicking and moving. "That two people can create another life together, that a real human being can come from nothing but us...I mean, that's...that's our baby."

Gabrielle tried very hard not to laugh at how his mind worked, but she did find him endlessly amusing. Things that touched him in an indescribably human way, he somehow had to try and make sense of through the things he'd read about in books. "Yes, it is."

Enjolras heard the laughter in her voice and glanced up at her, his cheeks turning red. "Are you laughing at me?"

"Yes." Gabrielle smiled and leaned forward, kissing his forehead. "But I think you're rather sweet, love."

"What does it feel like for you?" he asked. "Does it hurt?"

"No. Well, sometimes, but only for a second. It feels...well, exactly like what it is. Like someone is kicking and poking me from the inside." She laughed. "It's very strange, honestly. My belly will move sometimes, too."

"Really?" Enjolras muttered. "That's amazing." After a while, the baby ceased kicking and Enjolras looked up at her again. "It stopped. What does that mean?"

Gabrielle cocked her head at him and smiled. "Well, do you move constantly? Maybe it's asleep, or just tired."

Enjolras moved his hands to her neck and gently drew her lips to his. "Thank you," he said softly, "for being so patient with me. I'm a lucky man, Gabrielle."

"Yes, you are," Gabrielle agreed, and grinned as she began to untie his cravat. She couldn't help it – he looked so handsome in that red coat, and he was just being so wonderfully _Enjolras. _She didn't think she would ever stop wanting him. Gabrielle tossed the cravat suggestively to the floor and began to unbutton his waistcoat next, pressing her lips to the exposed skin just below his throat.

"I thought you said you wanted to sleep," he smirked.

"I said I was going to sleep _tonight," _Gabrielle corrected him saucily. "It's still the afternoon, love."

Enjolras laughed and immediately shrugged out of his crimson coat. "You'll have no objections from me."

* * *

The lovely spring days of May soon turned into the only slightly warmer days of June. Flowers bloomed, birds sang, and Enjolras remembered. Sometimes, he felt like he had one foot firmly planted in the present, anxiously watching Gabrielle's stomach grow and anticipating the birth of their child in the fall, while the other foot was rooted firmly in the past, still desperately hanging on to the memory of his friends. Every single day, he found himself thinking about what he had been doing at that exact moment last year – was he writing one of the many pamphlets they had distributed? Was he holding a rally, preaching to those that would listen? Was he in class, only half listening to his professors because his heart and mind were elsewhere?

Enjolras woke on the morning of June 5th in his usual position – arms around Gabrielle, her back firmly pressed against his chest, one hand lightly resting on her waist. But he was tense, his body poised for flight. He had been dreading this day for weeks. He didn't know what to do with himself, really. Did he go about his business as if it were any other day? Did he hole up by himself with a bottle of wine and get drunk out of his mind? (He had never been drunk out of his mind, so he didn't really think that was the smartest option.) There were no graves he could go visit, no memorial to pay his respects to.

His frustrated sigh woke Gabrielle and she groggily opened her eyes. He pressed a gentle kiss to her neck and rested his chin against her shoulder.

"Good morning." He knew this day would probably be hard for her, too, considering it was the first anniversary of her brother's death – well, technically, that was tomorrow. But everything had begun today, with their forceful takeover of Lamarque's funeral. His arms tightened around Gabrielle as he frowned, feeling guilt wash over him at the thought that Feuilly would never get to meet his niece or nephew. It just wasn't fair.

"How are you?" Gabrielle asked quietly, reaching up to run her fingers lightly over the stubble on his jaw. She looked concerned as she turned her head to meet his eyes.

"I'm...I don't know. I don't know what to do with myself today."

She understood immediately. "I don't think anyone would begrudge you if you wanted to stay home today, Antoine. There's nothing wrong with giving yourself time to grieve. I'm sure Marius and Joly are doing the same thing."

"Is it grieving or wallowing after a year?" he asked with a frown.

"Grieving," Gabrielle said softly. There were tears in her eyes, he noticed. It felt like a punch in the gut to see her cry.

"I wish we knew where they were. I just...I wish I could...pay my respects. Not that it would really mean anything. Nothing would change."

Gabrielle turned over to face him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing a kiss just above his heart. He felt a few of her tears fall onto his skin and he swallowed hard, gently rubbing her back. "Well..." she said shakily, "You could go to the Musain. I know it would be hard for you, love, but, if you want to pay your respects, I see no better place than that."

Enjolras froze, his blood turning cold in his veins. He hadn't been back to the Musain at all, had never planned on going back. He knew from hearing others talk that it was closed now, boarded up and home only to vagrants and rats. He didn't know if he could face that place again. But, Gabrielle was right, in a way; if he wanted to see the final resting place of his friends, that was the closest thing to it. And it did seem like it could possibly begin to bring closure to that time in his life, and help him fully open the door to the future.

"Maybe you're right...you usually are," he admitted lightly, trying to illicit a smile from Gabrielle's tearstained face.

Instead, she asked quietly, "Can I go with you?"

Enjolras tensed again and Gabrielle bit her lip, gripping his arm. "I just...I want to see it, too. And I want to be there if you need me. And I might need you. I don't want to be alone today."

"I don't know, Gabrielle," Enjolras worried. "I'm afraid it will make you upset. Well, I _know _it will. You know how I worry about you...Joly says it isn't good for the baby for you to get worked up."

Gabrielle pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, and Enjolras could feel that she was trying to let him know she understood, but he knew a protest was soon to come.

"Antoine, I'm going to be upset today no matter where I am, or what I'm doing. And I would rather go through it with you by my side than alone. We're a family," she reminded him, "And that's what families are supposed to do."

"Are you really sure?" he whispered.

"Yes, I'm very sure. I don't want you to go alone, if you do decide to go. And I want to see..." Gabrielle swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut. "Maybe it's morbid, I don't know. But I want to see it again. I can't get it out of my mind, anyway."

Enjolras realized that they had never really talked about what Gabrielle _did_ see that morning when she came to the barricade. He could only imagine, though, considering he had lived through those last awful moments, remembered the blood coating the cobblestones, and the broken pieces of furniture and splinters of wood flying every which way from the cannons firing at the barricade. It must have been awful, and shocking after a still night of waiting for word.

"I'm sorry you saw it at all," he said mournfully. "A lesser woman wouldn't have been able to handle it."

"I didn't have to focus on it very long. I was too distracted trying to get you out of there." She suddenly looked puzzled and ran a finger along his chest. Enjolras shivered, grateful for her touch that helped to anchor him there in the present, constantly reminding him that he was, indeed, alive. How could he have ever moved on without her?

"I think I was a little bit in love with you, even then," Gabrielle said quietly. "Certainly infatuated. I had you up on a bit of a pedestal, although you were usually preaching from one anyway, whenever I saw you." She smiled in recollection. "I'm glad I have those memories, too, Antoine, of you before. I know how far you've come."

Enjolras suddenly smiled, surprised that he could find a good, even amusing, memory in the midst of his sadness. "Did I ever tell you that I punched Courfeyrac, over you?"

Gabrielle gaped at him, her mouth falling open. "What?!"

Enjolras chuckled and nodded in affirmation. "I did. That night I walked you home, I knew they were going to tease me about it horribly the next day. I ran into Courfeyrac before class in the morning, and he...well." Enjolras gave her a pointed look. "He was _not _a gentleman with his insinuations. He wouldn't let up, and was being quite crude. So I punched him. I told him I did it so Feuilly wouldn't have to...but I don't think it would have bothered me if he wasn't talking about you. I was furious."

Gabrielle laughed and tilted her head curiously, "Why did it make you so angry? I would have just laughed at him."

"I..." He blushed and squirmed a bit uncomfortably. "Because what he said made me think of actually _doing_ those things to you, and knowing _he _was thinking of you like that, too, and...well, that's...not right," he finished feebly, his cheeks on fire. "You weren't mine then, not even close. And men shouldn't talk about women like they're only objects of desire; though, obviously, you were quite tempting..."

Gabrielle laughed, Enjolras was happy to see. "Are you saying that _maybe, _just _possibly, _you had feelings for me, too? Even felt a little jealous?"

"Maybe."

Gabrielle smiled and suddenly pressed her lips to his, kissing him feverishly. Enjolras felt his body automatically respond – no matter what, she could drive him crazy. He kissed her back, tangling his hands in her hair, and sucked hard on her bottom lip, feeling himself grow hard at sound of her soft moans.

"I feel alive when you touch me," she mumbled against his shoulder. "Even when I feel as horrible as I do today, I know it's alright, because you're here."

Enjolras swallowed, not used to being so overcome with emotion; although, with the absolutely tumultuous year he'd had, he figured he should be used to it by now. Still, he knew how she felt. She anchored him, gave him something to hold on to. Being with her physically had always meant so much more. It was as if he could feel the earth move when he was inside of her, could feel the immensity of the universe, and feel intimately connected with their small place in it. She made him see the stars.

He took her leg and hooked it around his hips, running his hands over her thigh. He felt the heat of her sex against his manhood and kissed her again, feeling relieved and grateful that even on the most difficult of days, he could find solace in being with her. She was a goddess, his Daphne, a temptation he could never get enough of; it was only pure luck that she loved him, too.

Gabrielle met his eyes and leaned her forehead against his, lightly brushing their lips together. "Make love to me. I need you today."

"I need you every day," he whispered, and gently pushed into her, keeping their eyes locked together as he moved inside of her.

Gabrielle whimpered and grasped his hand, intertwining their fingers. "Don't ever leave me, never again," she said softly, and Enjolras could see the sadness behind her eyes, even as he made her gasp in pleasure.

"I won't."

He pressed his lips to hers, the gentle and slow friction between them driving Gabrielle closer to her orgasm. He loved watching her, the way her cheeks reddened, how her hands clung desperately to him, how it felt as she tightened around his length. He pulled her closer, his hand firmly gripping her leg and keeping it securely around his hips.

"Look at me," he commanded softly, and Gabrielle opened her eyes to meet his again. She made the softest of sounds from low in her throat, her breath coming in short bursts. She made him feel alive, too, reminded him that he needed to be present, that he wanted to be present, that he wanted to live to be a hundred years old, if it meant living those years with her.

Enjolras thrust a bit harder as he felt his own release building, coiling low in his stomach. He felt suddenly possessive, overcome with feelings he didn't understand, a mix of happiness and misery running through him as he felt Gabrielle break apart in his hands, tears suddenly running down her face. She clung to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and Enjolras realized he was near tears, too. His body shuddered as he spilled into her, and a low moan, half of misery and half of ecstasy, escaped his throat.

Gabrielle cried against his chest and Enjolras held her close, stroking her hair and gently kissing every bit of skin within his reach. He wasn't embarrassed by his own tears, either; his friends deserved them. The world deserved them, and his broken, but beautiful _Patria_ deserved them, too.

They laid together for the next hour, skin against skin, and Enjolras was surprised when Gabrielle asked fearfully, "Antoine?"

"Yes, love?"

"You said something to me once, when you were recovering. You said you should have died, that you wanted to die." She looked at him and tried to smile. "I know you love me, and I think, or _hope, _that you're truly happy. But, part of me still wonders. Do you still feel that way? If you could go back, would you...would you want to die there, with them?"

Enjolras shook his head firmly, surprised at how quickly he knew the answer. There was no doubt in his mind, even if there would always be guilt. "No. I want to live, Gabrielle. Maybe it's selfish, considering what I caused. But I want to live. I want to live with you, and our child. I want our life."

Gabrielle smiled slowly, relief in her eyes. "Good."

* * *

Gabrielle clung to Enjolras' hand as they walked slowly down the _Rue St. Denis, _toward the site of the barricade and her husband's failed dream. One hand curled protectively around her stomach as Gabrielle gazed at the surrounding buildings, remembering how everything had looked a year ago. The streets had been so eerily quiet that morning when she finally ventured out to look for her brother, except for the soldiers that still lingered when she had reached the barricade. It had been a scene of utter destruction; shattered fragments of glass littering the ground, furniture blown to bits, broken bodies twisted and laying wherever they had fallen. She shuddered and moved closer to her husband, grateful when his arm encircled her shoulders. She knew he needed her today, possibly even more than she needed him.

As the neared the Musain, Enjolras grew pale. The already dilapidated building had fallen into further disrepair in the last year, its tilted shape looking precarious at best. Gabrielle followed his gaze up to the second story window, and knew they were both thinking of the same thing.

Her mouth suddenly felt unbelievably dry, and she wished for a drink of water. It was hard to breathe, thinking about what had happened right where they stood, and her eyes drifted roughly to the spot where she had last seen her brother's body, still draped across the barricade, his clothes stained with blood. She had known since he began his association with the _Les Amis_ that he was putting himself in danger. As soon as she attended her first meeting and saw the passion that moved Enjolras, the unyielding and dangerous fire that lit him from within, she understood. He would stop at nothing, and he would go down in a blaze of glory if he had to, if it meant coaxing the people to rise and embrace their liberty.

He had done his part, as had his friends. It was the rest of France that wasn't yet ready. That was a fear Feuilly had expressed to Gabrielle a few times since he met Enjolras, though she wasn't sure he had ever voiced his opinion to his chief. Though Feuilly was a few years older than Enjolras, Gabrielle had immediately seen how he admired the brave young student. Enjolras was able to give voice to the ideas Feuilly always held dear himself, and Gabrielle knew her brother was flattered that such an intelligent and educated young man recognized his own innate, and hard won, intelligence. It had even made _her_ proud that Enjolras held her brother in such esteem, and when he had begun to pay attention to her, as well...she was lost.

Even as he unmoored her, though, Enjolras had found her again. And now they were so tied together Gabrielle wasn't even sure where she ended and he began. They stopped walking the closer they got to the Musain, and Gabrielle looked up at Enjolras, squeezing his hand.

"Are you alright?"

He glanced down at her, his eyes a torrent of emotions. "I don't know."

Gabrielle turned towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist, closing her eyes as she leaned her head against his chest. He held her tightly, and they both felt no need to speak. There were no words that could possibly express the grief and guilt he felt, but Gabrielle hoped that the love they found together over the last year would be enough to make him happy.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, pulling away to look down at her in concern.

"I'm fine. Do you want to go inside?" Gabrielle glanced at the café, worrying her bottom lip. "I'll go with you, Antoine. You made it this far...you should go all the way."

Enjolras nodded slowly, his eyes drifting up the facade of the building again. After a moment he asked, "I was hanging from there? When you arrived here?"

Gabrielle nodded, closing her eyes against the memory. "Still holding the flag," she whispered. "I thought you were dead. Thank God you weren't."

Enjolras grasped her hand again and took a deep breath, drawing himself up to his full height. He marched forward to the door and pushed against it. It opened easily, and though he hesitated for the briefest of moments, he bravely stepped inside to meet his ghosts. Gabrielle followed, footsteps echoing on the dusty wooden floor. The inside of the Musain looked as bad as the outside, like it had barely been touched since the barricade. The floor was littered with empty bottles and glasses; even an old boot lay in the corner. The light was dim and the place smelled musty, making Gabrielle feel a bit nauseous, even though it had been weeks since she'd been sick.

Enjolras immediately gravitated to the staircase in back, though it looked like it would barely hold him. He stopped and glanced at Gabrielle, his face strangely blank. "I don't think you should go up here," he said. "It doesn't look safe."

"I don't want you to go alone. Unless you want to?" Gabrielle reached up and gently touched his cheek.

He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes for a moment. "I want you to go with me," he finally admitted. "Let me go first, make sure the stairs will hold." Reluctantly, they unclasped their hands and Enjolras approached the stairs, gingerly testing the weight of each one. As derelict as they looked, they seemed steady enough, and he reached out his hand to help her up after he was satisfied they were relatively safe. Gabrielle ascended the stairs slowly and gave Enjolras a reassuring smile once they reached the top. He briefly laid his hand on her stomach and kissed her forehead before releasing a heavy breath and turning to face the room.

Gabrielle stood behind him, feeling the heaviness that hung in the air. It was oppressive, like a stifling blanket, even with the sunlight that streamed in through the open window. She looked down at the floor, her brow furrowing when she noticed it was riddled with holes. She suddenly remembered what Enjolras had told her, about the soldiers firing through the floor, how he alone was the only one untouched by bullets. Gabrielle covered her mouth to keep from crying out and squeezed her eyes shut.

When she finally looked back to Enjolras, he had moved into the middle of the room. He stood still as a statue, his head in his hands. Gabrielle didn't move, but watched him carefully. A shudder ran through him and he suddenly reached out a silent hand towards her. Gabrielle quickly crossed the room and gripped his hand, pulling him near her. Enjolras bent his head and buried his face in her neck, and Gabrielle could feel his tears soaking her collar. He was silent as he cried, but his body shook uncontrollably. "Oh, my love," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

After minutes that seemed an eternity, Enjolras let out a shaky breath and whispered, "It feels like I'm being watched. Like their spirits are at my back, but as soon as I turn, they're gone..."

Gabrielle pushed his hair back, kissing his forehead. "You need to let them rest, Antoine. I know they don't blame you. I know it."

"He does," Enjolras said dully, and straightened, vigorously rubbing at his eyes.

"Who does?"

"Grantaire," Enjolras whispered. He took a deep breath and crossed to the window. He suddenly looked feverish, and gestured to the stairs. "I was standing here, waiting. The others were dead on the floor, and the soldiers were coming up the stairs. I just stood here, looking down at the barricade, and..."

Gabrielle turned away for a minute, feeling sick. She had come so close to losing him before he was even hers, and even though it was done, in the past, it was still enough to make her heart speed up in panic. He didn't seem to notice her distress and continued.

"The soliders came...Captain Martin. And they just stared at me for a minute. I don't think they knew what to do, if they were really going to kill me or not. I looked into Martin's eyes, and he was wavering, I could tell...and then _Grantaire, _damn him." Now that Enjolras was talking, he couldn't seem to stop. "He stumbled up those stairs, probably drunk out of his mind. He'd been asleep the whole time, I knew, and I actually thought maybe he was going to be the one to get through it all. But he saw me, and his _eyes..._they looked right through me. And I couldn't have made him leave if I tried. He just...he took his place by my side, and..." Enjolras trailed off, his voice choked. "Damn him," he whispered again.

Gabrielle could picture it all too clearly in her mind, see it in front of her eyes as she looked around the room. Grantaire, that sometimes vile man who clearly had idolized Enjolras, even as Enjolras despised him. Outwardly, anyway. Gabrielle didn't think Enjolras really had it in him to despise anyone, especially someone who was clearly so lost. Had Grantaire died believing in anything they were fighting for? Gabrielle wondered. Or had he only believed in Enjolras?

"You didn't fail him," Gabrielle said vehemently, knowing that was what Enjolras believed.

Enjolras smiled wryly and reached out to rub at a dark spot on the window. His face darkened as he touched it, and Gabrielle blanched, realizing it was dried blood...either Enjolras' own or Grantaire's.

She suddenly felt dizzy and swayed a bit, reaching out a hand to steady herself, but finding nothing to grasp onto. "Antoine..." she whispered, and suddenly he was at her side, holding her up and looking frightened.

"Gabrielle? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she insisted, but leaned against him heavily. Her legs felt weak. "I just...it's...I think I need to sit down."

Enjolras wrapped an arm around her waist, and with one last glance at the room behind them, helped her down the stairs and out into the sunlight. An older woman was hanging her clothes out to dry as they exited the building, and straightened up in alarm at the sight of them coming out of the café. There was a wooden chair behind her that Enjolras made a beeline for.

"Madame," Enjolras said politely, "My wife needs to sit. May we?" He gestured to the chair, and at the woman's faint nod, gratefully helped Gabrielle down. He crouched next to her, clutching her hand and looking at her anxiously. "Are you alright? What do you need?"

Gabrielle took a deep breath and shook her head. "I'm fine, Antoine, I promise. I just...I felt dizzy for a moment. It was...just picturing it..." She swallowed and noticed the woman staring intently at her husband. Gabrielle inclined her head almost imperceptibly towards her and Enjolras followed her gaze.

"I know you, Monsieur," the woman said hesitantly. "I recognize you from before. Haven't seen you around here much anymore..."

"No, Madame," Enjolras said quietly. "There's no need for me to be here anymore."

"Monsieur Enjolras, is it? I remember," she continued. "Quite the young revolutionary, you were. Things have changed from your late night meetings at the Musain, have they? A baby on the way?" The woman smiled, obviously trying to be friendly, and gestured to Gabrielle.

"Yes," Enjolras agreed. "They have changed." He grit his teeth and glared back at the Musain.

The woman's tone softened as she hung another skirt to dry on the line. "I was sorry, Monsieur, about what happened last year. About the fate of your rebellion. In fact, I'm quite surprised to find you alive."

"You aren't the only one," Enjolras agreed softly. He turned back to Gabrielle and squeezed her hand, raising his eyebrows to ask if she was okay.

"I'm feeling much better. We can go now."

"Are you certain?"

Gabrielle nodded and Enjolras helped her up. He nodded his thanks to the woman and they began walking away.

"Good luck, Monsieur Enjolras," she called softly behind them.

Neither turned around, and Gabrielle was grateful to see that Enjolras looked as if he was finally leaving the past behind.

* * *

**Hi! It took me a few days longer than usual to update because I really wanted to make sure I got this chapter the way I wanted it. I didn't expect to update tonight, either, but I think this is the happiest I'm going to get with this one! It was actually supposed to be longer, but I decided to split it. :) Thank you for all of the wonderful, kind reviews for the last chapter. That one and this one are my favorites of the whole story so far because I really feel like Enjolras is getting somewhere and finally moving on.**

**Our friend Grantaire will feature in the next chapter. YAY! Hopefully I'll be able to update again on Sunday. Please, please, please, leave a review and let me know what you think! I love checking my phone as my first graders are driving me particularly crazy to see I have some reviews to look forward to when I get home! :)**

**~Aimee**

**P.S. I tried to throw a little bit of humor and some more light hearted scenes in here since the last chapter was so heavy, and then the end of this one is, too. I hope it works well together and nothing seems like overkill. PLUS, several people requested the first part of this chapter, with Enjolras feeling the baby move. Hope it lived up to your expectations! **


	30. Chapter XXX

Chapter XXX

_The Musain was dark. No lights shone through the window, and when Enjolras stepped inside the main door, glass crunched under his boot. That was strange; usually, in these dreams, the Musain was as alive as it used to be, restored to its former glory. Now, it looked just as it had that afternoon, as run-down and abandoned as it had in his waking hours. Clearly, his friends weren't here this evening. So why was Enjolras?_

_ Despite the fact that his friends were not present, Enjolras was drawn to the back stairs, probably out of habit, he assumed. He climbed slowly, the worn wood of the banister shaking beneath his hand. He stopped when he reached the top, his eyes adjusting to the darkness and scanning the room. A dark shape sat huddled in the corner, half slumped over a table. There was only one person that could be._

_ "Grantaire?" Enjolras asked incredulously. "Why are you the only one here?"_

_ Grantaire looked up slowly, and Enjolras was unable to read his expression in the dark. "Where else would I be?"_

_ Enjolras shrugged and scuffed his boot against the floor uncomfortably. "I don't know. Heaven, I suppose?" He was only half joking._

_ Grantaire grinned and raised the bottle in his hand. "Who says this isn't?"_

_ Enjolras glanced around. "I'd feel cheated if this was heaven."_

_ Grantaire didn't respond, but reached over to light a candle. The room was soon illuminated in a soft, ethereal glow, and Enjolras slowly crossed the floor to Grantaire's table. He sat heavily across from him and stared. Grantaire's eyes were bloodshot, his clothes dirty, and his hair sticking up wildly. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, much like he had when he was alive._

_ Enjolras felt the familiar urge to fuss at him, but suppressed it. He had no right to treat him that way anymore. So he tried a different, and stranger, tactic. _

_ "What's wrong?" he asked, his face a mask of concern._

_ Grantaire eyed him. "Nothing. I'm my usually pleasant self."_

_ "Why are you still here?" Enjolras asked bluntly._

_ "Like I said, where else would I be?" At Enjolras' poignant look, Grantaire cleared his throat and took a swig from the bottle, setting it down heavily on the table afterward. His brow furrowed and he glared at the flickering candle in front of him. "There are lots of reasons, I suppose."_

_ "Is it because of me?" Enjolras whispered. "Because of what I did?" He figured it was best to get straight to the point._

_ "What do you think you did exactly?"_

_ Enjolras rolled his eyes, his annoyance rising. "Do we really have to get into that? We both know what I've done."_

_ "Your version of events and my version of events may be two completely different things," Grantaire said calmly, and finally met Enjolras' eyes. "We've never seen eye to eye, have we? Why would we now?"_

_ Enjolras paused and glanced away. He clenched his jaw and said stiffly, "What do you wish me to do? Confess my sins to you?"_

_ "If you must."_

_ Grantaire was the last person Enjolras wanted to talk about his feelings with. But, he realized, also probably the one who was most in need of hearing them. Enjolras had a sinking suspicion that it was all his fault Grantaire was still miserable in the afterlife...if, indeed, that was where they were._

_ "I failed you," Enjolras said quietly. "I've gone over this so many times with Gabrielle, but..." Enjolras stopped at the sneer that crossed Grantaire's face at the mention of Gabrielle's name._

_ "Go on."_

_ Enjolras narrowed his eyes a bit, but kept going. "It's my fault you're all gone. It's my fault you're dead. I failed you, I failed France, I failed myself...but I'm trying to move on. I can't change the past. I can only keep going, and try to do better. For my wife, and my child." There it was again, that unmistakable, bitter sneer. "What is that look for?" Enjolras asked impatiently. "You told me to confess, and I have, yet you mock me. I don't know why I'm surprised."_

_ Enjolras crossed his arms and glared at Grantaire._

_ Grantaire's sneer turned into a full on boisterous laugh, which further enraged Enjolras. Honestly, he had never understood this man..._

_ "Easy, Apollo." Grantaire's nickname for Enjolras flew easily off his tongue. "I do not 'mock' you, as you say. You say you failed us? Me? I'm assuming you mean because we didn't _win _at our little game of war?"_

_Enjolras nodded tersely, and Grantaire continued. "And what if I told you that it isn't our failure at playing revolution that irks me, but rather...your failure at _dying?"

_Enjolras blinked. Even though he had the thought many times over the last year that he should have died with his friends, that he deserved it, it was still rather disconcerting to have Grantaire so openly state that he felt the same way, that he wished Enjolras would have died with them, too._

_ "You're mad at me because I survived?" Enjolras said softly, feeling guilt wash over him._

_ Grantaire cocked his head to the side, deep in thought, which must be a rather difficult concept for him, Enjolras supposed. _

_ "Mostly," Grantaire said cryptically._

_ "Mostly?"_

_ "Your failure to die irks me, yes."_

_ Enjolras leaned forward, trying to make sense of this riddle. "Do you hate me?"_

_ "No. Quite the contrary," Grantaire admitted easily, his eyes burning holes through Enjolras. "If we're confessing, Apollo, then I fear I must tell you...I very much do not hate you. It's more the opposite emotion, though I doubt that will make you any happier."_

_ Enjolras raised his eyebrows. "The opposite of hate is love. You love me? Surely not, Grantaire. All you've ever done is mock my ideas and my passion, tease me about how I was going to die with only Patria as my mistress..."_

_ Grantaire shook his head and laughed to himself. "Little you see, Enjolras."_

_ "I've made my confession. So now yours. I've never understood you, R. Help me to."_

_ Grantaire sighed and looked at him, suddenly seeming very sober. Enjolras wasn't actually sure he had ever spoken to a sober Grantaire. "You're right. I've never believed in your little rebellion, or your cause, or your ideas, or...anything you preached about. I listened every time you spoke, even when you thought I didn't, and there was only one truth I ever saw. That truth wasn't the words you said. It wasn't your ideals. It wasn't your dreams. The truth was you. I believed only in you."_

_ Enjolras swallowed, his heart speeding up. He knew Grantaire spoke the truth, but he just didn't understand it. Why? Why had he believed in him, if he believed in nothing Enjolras stood for? He gave voice to his question and Grantaire cocked his head, letting out a bitter laugh._

_ "Why do you love Gabrielle, Enjolras? We don't choose the people we fall in love with. It just happens."_

_ Enjolras froze, trying to judge whether or not Grantaire was just playing with him, having a bit of a laugh at his expense. "What?"_

_ "You heard me. I won't say it again. So, yes, Enjolras. I didn't believe in those things, but I believed in you. I followed you. And I don't regret that, not at all. But..." he laughed, and this time it sounded bitter. "You did a piss-poor job of dying, my friend."_

_ Enjolras was still too stunned to respond, so Grantaire continued. "You know, in the end, I didn't think it was that bad. Yes, it was awful. It was horrifying, waking up to see everyone dead on the floor around me. But then I saw you there by the window, looking _exactly _like the name I'd always given you, and I thought, 'Okay. There's no better way to go. If I can't be with him in this life, I will be in the next.' And you looked at me, and for the first time, I thought you truly saw me. I thought you understood. And I thought you were happy to have me by your side in your final moments. The only way I ever wanted to die was with you. We were supposed to die together. Except...you didn't."_

_ Grantaire didn't sound angry. Just...disappointed?_

_ "So you're...unhappy...that I didn't die?" Enjolras asked._

_ "It's hard to explain," Grantaire muttered. "I...there was a poetry in it, Apollo. A bittersweet, _ironic_ sort of poetry, the kind that Jehan would write about, and I...I wanted to die with you. I was supposed to die _with _you. But you _didn't die."

_ "I'm sorry," Enjolras whispered. "I know I was supposed to. I _should _have, I..." Gabrielle's face obscured his vision for a moment and Enjolras stopped. Grantaire smiled bitterly, almost as if he could read Enjolras' thoughts._

_ "You did feel that way," Grantaire said. "I know you did wish it. But now you don't. There's no use pretending. You're very much happy you're alive now, Apollo."_

_ "Stop calling me that," Enjolras muttered. "And _yes, _I am happy now...I'm glad I didn't die. I would give anything to bring you all back but, really, Grantaire, what's the point of me wallowing in misery for the rest of my life? I'll never affect any change like that."_

_ "She has everything in you I wanted. The way you look at her, bare your soul to her. For fuck's sake, she's carrying your child. Giving you things I never could." Grantaire glared at the wall for a minute, his nostrils flaring. _

_ It truly hit Enjolras at that moment how serious Grantaire was about what he'd said. He _was _clearly in love with him. And insanely, bitterly jealous. Everything made a little more sense now, and the usual annoyance Enjolras felt when he thought of Grantaire was replaced by a gentle feeling of empathy._

_ "Like you said, R, we can't help who we fall in love with. You would know it was a lie if I told you I loved you, when you so clearly understand and see my feelings for her. She is my life. My family is the reason I now have for getting up every morning."_

_ "I know," Grantaire whispered. "And I don't...or I'm _trying..._not to begrudge you that, Enjolras. I really am. Sometimes, I just feel a bit...stuck."_

_ "I don't want you to be," Enjolras said passionately. "Grantaire, I was _happy _to have you by my side in those final moments. It was comforting, to not be alone. For the first time, I respected you. I really did. I still do."_

_ Grantaire took a deep breath and folded his hands in front of him. "Thank you."_

_ They sat in a slightly awkward silence for a several minutes, looking anywhere but at each other. Enjolras didn't know what else to say. He felt more compelled to try and help Grantaire than worried about himself, he realized in surprise. He had been so caught up in his own guilt for the past year, that feeling it lessen was strange. Accepting life had been much more difficult than accepting death._

_ "It would make me happy, Grantaire," Enjolras said hesitantly, "to know that you aren't angry at me...to know I have your blessing."_

_ Grantaire raised his eyes slowly, clearly surprised by Enjolras' words. "You have it, Enjolras. There's no need to ask. Even if I'm unhappy and bitter and jealous, I don't...I don't wish unhappiness on you. Or Gabrielle."_

_ Enjolras sucked in a breath and nodded, reaching over the table to clasp Grantaire's hand in his own. Again, Grantaire looked surprised. "Thank you, mon ami. What else can I do to help you?"_

_ Grantaire slowly shrugged and sighed, sitting up straighter in his chair. "Nothing. I think I have to help myself." He rose, keeping his gaze trained on Enjolras. "But I don't think sitting around here is going to do anyone any good anymore."_

_ Enjolras stood and nodded in agreement. Grantaire held out his hand and Enjolras took it, unexpectedly pulling Grantaire firmly into his body. Grantaire clung to him tightly for a minute, and then clapped his back._

_ "You're going to be one hell of a father, Enjolras. Baby Patria is lucky to have you," Grantaire said lightly, trying to clear the heaviness that had settled over the room._

_ Enjolras grinned and shook his head. "I'm not naming my child 'Patria.' I won't go that far. But thank you."_

_ Grantaire pulled away and squarely met his gaze for several moments before nodding. "Goodbye, Apollo."_

_ "Goodbye, Grantaire."_

_ Enjolras watched him cross the room, and with one last glance at their old meeting place, descend the stairs. Enjolras stood at the window and gazed down at the street, smiling faintly as Grantaire's shadow emerged from the Musain and began to trudge down the street. He wasn't swerving in a jagged, drunken line as he usually was, but walked with his shoulders back and head upright. _

_ And he didn't look back._

* * *

Enjolras slowly awoke from his dream, blinking in the early morning light. Everything that had just happened was fresh and vivid in his mind. And he felt strangely, eerily calm. He turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling, thinking about everything Grantaire had said. Was it all true? Or was it only something his own mind concocted, nothing more than a dream?

It felt like much more than a dream, as real as Gabrielle felt beside him. He turned his head to study her sleeping form, the way her hair fanned out around her on the pillow; how her eyelids gently fluttered, caught up in a dream; how she always slept with one hand curled protectively around her stomach now. Enjolras turned on his side to face her, thinking about what he had said to Grantaire. For the first time, every part of him really meant it. He was happy to be alive. He was happy to be in love with a wonderful, beautiful woman. And he was happy they were about to bring a child into the world.

Wasting time worrying, focusing on all of the negative things that could go wrong wasn't the way to live. He wanted to enjoy every minute of life with his family.

Enjolras didn't want to wake Gabrielle, but couldn't resist brushing his lips against hers. He slowly reached down and pulled her nightgown up, exposing her swollen stomach. The more he looked at her, the more infatuated he was with the little being that was growing inside of her.

He scooted down the bed and gently placed his lips on her stomach. "Good morning, little one. I'm very, very anxious to meet you," he whispered. He was rewarded with a soft kick, as if he had roused the baby with his voice, and he grinned, placing his hand over the spot his lips had been. He glanced up to find Gabrielle's eyes open, sleepily watching him. He smiled sheepishly.

"Good morning," she mumbled, and tugged at his shirt to pull him back up to her.

Enjolras pressed his lips to her neck and wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her firmly against his chest. "It is," he agreed quietly.

* * *

**Hiiiiiii, guys. So, this chapter is shorter than normal because I split it from the last one. I feel like it kind of stands on its own, though, and the bit of fluff there at the end is just that. :)**

**I'm sorry I haven't replied to reviews from the last chapter. I got super sick on Wednesday night and have been battling strep the last few days. Today is the first day I've felt like a human, so I hammered this out for you just now. Thank you so, so much for the reviews last time, and I really look forward to hearing what you have to say about this one. HOPEFULLY I'll be able to update this week, but don't count on it. I still don't feel good and I have a feeling work is going to make me exhausted this week, which means I probably won't come home and write, but GO TO BED. I swear I'll update next Sunday at the latest! Enjoy your week and please review!**

**~Aimee**


	31. Chapter XXXI

Chapter XXXI

In late June, the orphanage was ready to open its doors. Though Gabrielle was in her sixth month of pregnancy, she had no inclination to slow down. She had never felt better, and was ecstatic to see the way Enjolras lit up from within every time he surveyed all of the work they were doing. She loved being a part of something with him, loved that they were building something real and tangible together.

On June 29th, they arrived at the orphanage when the moon was still in the sky. They had no idea what to expect when the doors opened in a few hours; would there be children there immediately or would it take a few days for word to spread? Some of the staff had stayed all night to ensure that breakfast would be ready in the morning for anyone that did arrive early, and baths, beds, and clothes were prepped.

As the _fiacre_ pulled up to the curb, Gabrielle peered out of the window at four dark little shapes on the sidewalk. The largest looked up from where he was sitting as they rolled to a stop and Gabrielle caught a look at his face in the moonlight.

She started in recognition.

"Antoine," she said slowly. "I know that boy." She struggled to place him for a moment, but exclaimed excitedly, "Oh! He delivered a letter to me once and I gave him breakfast! His name is Henri!"

Enjolras looked curiously out of the window and climbed down, then helped Gabrielle safely to the ground. "Do you think they're here for...well...?" Enjolras inclined his head towards the building and Gabrielle shrugged.

"I don't know. I suppose we better ask them." She turned towards the children and called softly, "Is your name Henri?"

"Madame Enjolras?" Henri answered hesitantly. "I remember you."

"As do I. What are you doing here so early, Henri?" Gabrielle took a few steps towards the children, and noticed the little ones behind Henri eyeing her warily. They were skinny and filthy, and probably no more than three or four years old, unless their malnourishment made them seem younger than they really were.

"Well, see...I heard about what you're doing. Lots of kids are talking about it, and some families who want to get rid of 'em. I thought we might come see."

"Are these your brothers?"

Henri shook his head, and Gabrielle asked quietly, "Where are their parents, then?" She felt Enjolras' hand on the small of her back as he moved to stand next to her.

"Dunno. They've been alone as long as I've known them." His eyes flicked to the building behind them, and Gabrielle knew he had probably never been in a house so grand, even if it looked significantly different than it would if a family lived there.

"Well...would you all like some breakfast?" Enjolras asked. "You can come in and take a look around, if you'd like." His voice was carefully neutral.

Henri looked back at them and said slowly, as if he could see right through them, "_I'm_ not staying, you know...but they might. I mean, they're little. They need help taking care of themselves. I'm almost grown. I don't need a place like this."

"Of course," Enjolras replied softly. "That's entirely up to you, Henri." He held out his hand for the little gamin to shake. "You can call me Enjolras."

Henri shook his hand, albeit a little distrustfully, and Gabrielle stifled a grin; of course, she felt pity for the boys, but she couldn't help but feel excited to see their first little charges finding their way home.

"I used to listen to your speeches, Monsieur," Henri suddenly said. "I knew Gavroche. He was always going on about your meetings."

Enjolras smiled wryly. "Yes, well. Things didn't turn out the way I hoped. Will you come inside, Henri?"

Henri nodded and reached over to pull the little boys to their feet. "Come on, you lot. This is where you're staying from now on."

Gabrielle and Enjolras let Henri and the three little boys walk a few steps ahead of them, each taking in their skittish steps and skeptical looks. Enjolras unlocked the doors and pushed them open, and Gabrielle was grateful to see that some lamps were still lit in the front entrance hall.

"I'm sure there's some breakfast ready for all of you," Gabrielle said quietly. Now that she was faced with their first children, she wasn't quite sure what to do, and decided to just see what happened as they went. "Henri, you're welcome to eat, too; it doesn't matter whether or not your stay is permanent."

Gabrielle took Enjolras' hand and they led the boys to the dining room in the back, lighting candles along the way. Enjolras sat with the boys while Gabrielle went into the kitchen, surprised to find Musichetta already there with their cook, Molly.

"'Chetta! You're here even earlier than us. Good morning, Molly." Gabrielle kissed each of them lightly on the cheek and then lowered her voice. "Peek out into the dining room and look what we found!"

Both women curiously tiptoed to the door and peeked through. Musichetta turned back with a wide grin on her face. "Where did they come from so early?!"

"They were waiting on the sidewalk! I know that oldest boy, he delivered a letter to me from Genevieve Durand once. He said word about the orphanage is spreading, and he's dropping those three little ones off here. They don't have any parents! I suppose he's been trying to care for them himself. Goodness, I don't even know their names yet," Gabrielle said in a rush.

Musichetta smiled and laid a calming hand on her arm. "It's exciting, isn't it? Seeing what you've been working for actually happening? I'm sure they're all starving."

Gabrielle helped Musichetta and Molly gather breakfast for the boys and carry it to the dining room just as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. Her heart constricted when she saw how wide their eyes became as they glimpsed the food, and she wondered if they had ever had a decent meal in their short lives. The littlest one was literally twitching and squirming in his seat, about to reach out for the food as soon as they set the trays down, but Henri slapped his hand sternly and said, "Wait, you. It's ain't polite."

Gabrielle put one thing in front of them at a time, urging them to eat slowly so as not to upset their painfully empty stomachs. No one said a word through the whole meal.

The little boys didn't even glance up from their food, and when they were finished, they barely even looked at each other. They were so strangely blank; the only emotion they expressed was the excitement over the food. Other than that, they seemed content to stare at the wall with guarded eyes. Gabrielle cleared her throat, wondering why she felt so awkward; they were just children.

"What's your name?" she asked the one nearest to her, and he finally turned his large, hollow eyes in her direction. He just shrugged.

Gabrielle raised her eyebrows and looked at Henri, who helpfully supplied, "They don't really have _real _names, I suppose. I named them, though. I call this one Louis, this one Phillipe, and this one's just George." He pointed to each in turn and grinned, wagging his eyebrows at his own little joke at using the names of the king.

"Oh," Gabrielle said quietly, feeling profoundly sad at the thought that these little _gamins _didn't even really know who they were. And no one else did, either. Well, hopefully, they could build their own identities here, become educated, and be whoever they wanted to be. For the first time, Gabrielle realized what a _hard _road that would be for children like them, who came from nothing, and spent their first years feeling completely and utterly unloved. She was suddenly overcome with wanting; she couldn't wait, even _needed_, to hold her own child. How unfair that these children didn't have loving parents. No matter what they received here at the orphanage, nothing would ever quite make up for the years of neglect they had already endured.

"Henri, you know you're welcome to stay here, too," Enjolras said carefully. "With a roof over your head, three meals a day, and a comfortable bed to sleep in."

Henri cocked his head and said knowingly, "Ah, but there's a catch, right? Like, I'd have to go to school and follow rules. And I wouldn't be able to leave whenever I want, and do as I please."

"We wouldn't allow you to do anything illegal, no," Enjolras said firmly, "but the rules here will be fair and not unreasonable. I wouldn't force you to attend school, but the option is there."

"What if you worked for us, Henri?" Gabrielle asked suddenly. "We could pay you to help out the groundskeeper and to run errands for us. It would be honest work, and you would earn money." Enjolras squeezed Gabrielle's knee under the table, obviously approving of her new tactic.

"Obviously, Henri, an intelligent young man like you understands that a place like this will provide a better life than the streets of Paris, or you wouldn't have brought your friends here," Gabrielle said knowingly.

Henri still looked wary, and sat in contemplative silence for several minutes. Finally, he said slowly, "I could try it, I suppose. For a little while, especially if the food's always this good. If I don't like it, I can leave, right? You won't have me arrested or nothin'?"

"No, of course not," Enjolras said gently. "Although there will be rules for you to abide by, just as there will be for everyone in this house - nothing that I don't think you'll agree to, though; I can see that you're a reasonable man." Gabrielle covered her mouth to hide another grin. She loved hearing that firm, but conspiratorial tone in Enjolras' voice. She could just imagine the lectures he would give their own child someday.

Henri nodded slowly, and then jerked his head toward the boys. "I don't suppose we could get that bath now? I don't think they've ever had one before. They've probably got lice, just so you know. I don't think I do, though...I don't itch much." He scratched his head as he spoke, as if reminded just how itchy he actually was.

"Of course!" Gabrielle rose just as Musichetta came into the room. She introduced herself to all of the boys and Gabrielle couldn't help but smile at the playful, but no-nonsense tone she automatically adopted as she spoke to them. 'Chetta had all of them ushered upstairs before Gabrielle could blink, and she turned to look at Enjolras, who seemed a little shell-shocked.

He looked up at her and blinked. "We have children already," he said slowly. "And did we just bribe him into staying here with a _job?_ I don't even know what he'll do."

Gabrielle laughed and shrugged. "We'll think of something. He obviously wants it or he wouldn't have come here, no matter what he said. You were wonderful with him. And those little ones...can you even imagine? They don't even know their names. Or perhaps their parents never even gave them any!"

Enjolras stood and pulled Gabrielle into a tight hug. "I think this is going to be the most interesting thing we've ever done."

* * *

Over the next few weeks, more and more children trickled through the doors of the orphanage. Sometimes, they were accompanied by their parents, with tearful promises that they would return for them when times were better, while others simply seemed relieved to be getting rid of an extra mouth to feed. Though Gabrielle grew up poor, she had never seen poverty quite at this level; children who didn't have any ideas of social conventions or manners, who looked distrustfully left and right as they devoured the food in front of them, who had trouble actually sleeping on a soft mattress because they were so used to the hard ground.

Many had no idea how share with each other, or interact in any way but with violence. Playing quickly turned to fighting, often in the blink of an eye. Even the older children, who should have had someone to teach them in their early years, reached out and grabbed things from others without asking, then seemed surprised when they received a slap or punch in return. Taking was easier than asking; indeed, it seemed all they knew how to do. It was harder than anyone expected to establish and enforce rules and consequences, and every member of the staff often found themselves trying to patiently explain how to treat people properly several times a day, as well as the philosophy behind _why _that was important, which, come to find out, was unbelievably hard to explain to a child who had never seen the results of kindness. Everyone but Gabrielle, only because of her pregnancy, became quite good at restraining children throwing tantrums, as well. More often than not, everyone was exhausted, and exclaimed in a fit of frustration that they should just throw in the towel and give up. They never did, though, and doggedly kept moving forward.

Surprisingly, Cosette took to the most troubled children the fastest and they responded to her the best. The most violent and distrustful children, no matter their age, found a confidant and nurturing figure in her, and Gabrielle was more than grateful that she so often came to help. She spoke their language and understood them, and was often able to help them understand why what they had done was wrong. Gabrielle thought they loved her so much because they never felt judged by her, and once she began trying to emulate Cosette's words and actions, found she grew a bit closer to several of the children, too. Musichetta, especially, had a newfound and almost grudging respect for Cosette, and the two had grown much closer over the last several weeks.

The plans to actually teach academics were mostly put on hold, however, due to the lack of social and emotional well-being so many of the children had. They all collectively agreed that helping them understand how to feel and express themselves with words, rather than violence, would probably be the most helpful first step of all. The youngest children in the orphanage, though, the littlest who was still just a baby at fourteen months old, needed nothing but love to flourish. They craved it, and clung to the women's skirts and the men's legs whenever they were near, each trying to scramble onto the nearest lap whenever someone was sitting. Most of the youngest ones didn't talk very much or well, at all, but Gabrielle saw a slow improvement the longer they were at the orphanage and had regular interaction with adults. She supposed that either at home or on the streets, their parents mostly ignored them and shoved them aside, thinking them nothing but trouble. What a horrible, unfair existence.

Gabrielle was a bit frustrated that she couldn't do more, but Enjolras kept a careful eye on her all the time; when dark circles appeared beneath her eyes because of her lack of sleep and her ankles swelled from being on her feet all the time, he insisted she begin to rest for at least three hours every afternoon, even if it was only laying on the comfortable sofa in his office. Joly agreed with him, of course, and came to check on her every chance he got, anxiously checking her vitals. Even Musichetta, who was quite vocal about the fact that women, _because _of the fact that they could give birth, were just as capable, if not more so, than men, agreed that at this stage of her pregnancy, she should rest while she could.

The summer flew by, and when the fall was upon them, Gabrielle began to feel more and more anxious for the birth of their child. It was mid-September, and with a month or more still left, she felt enormous. Though she had enjoyed being pregnant so far, Gabrielle was just beginning to think she was ready for it to be over. Enjolras was back to being incredibly nervous, and wasn't even attempting to hide it. He carried on as usual, however, and dealt with the pressure he felt in the only way he knew how: work.

One afternoon, Gabrielle awoke to Enjolras and Joly's hushed voices outside the door. She sat up and stretched, surprised to find the light quite dim in the office. She must have slept the afternoon away without meaning to.

"Antoine?" she called, loud enough for her voice to carry through the heavy oak door.

The talking paused and Enjolras poked his head into the room. "I'm sorry. Did we wake you?"

"No," she lied. "Come in, please. I'm awake. What does Joly need?"

Joly practically bounced into the room around Enjolras, clearly excited. "Good afternoon, Gabrielle! Or should I say evening now? How are you feeling?"

"Huge," Gabrielle said simply, and managed a tired smile. "It's hard to imagine I have at least four weeks left."

"Well, we don't want the baby coming early!" Joly said happily. "It's better to tough it out and have a healthy baby." He pulled up a chair and sat on the edge, his eyes shining. "I have something new for you!"

Enjolras rolled his eyes behind Joly's back and mouthed 'I'm sorry' at her, but Gabrielle smiled indulgently, amused. "What?"

"It's a new instrument! Well, it's not _really _new, doctors have been using them for a while. But this design is fairly new, and it's rather expensive. But I've managed to get my hands on one. It lets you listen to a heartbeat."

"Oh? What is it?" Gabrielle asked curiously, and watched Joly pull the instrument out of his bag. It was quite strange looking, with two long, curved metal prongs and flexible tubing at the bottom.

"It's called a stethoscope. Here – you put these over your ears." Joly put the device on Gabrielle and motioned for Enjolras to come near. He sat down on the couch next to Gabrielle, and Joly placed the other end over his heart. "And you can hear someone's heart."

Gabrielle listened, and heard the steady _thump _of Enjolras' heartbeat. "That's very interesting," she told Joly. "But why are you so excited?"

"Well," Joly folded his hands together and took the stethoscope back from Gabrielle. "I've been shadowing a doctor friend of mine who is quite experienced with childbirth, just...you know, to make sure I'm as prepared as I can be." Enjolras looked a little nervous at that fact, but Gabrielle squeezed his hand reassuringly. "And today, he used the stethoscope to hear a _baby's _heartbeat! While still in the womb!" Joly exclaimed.

Gabrielle raised her eyebrows. "Really? You can do that?"

"Well, hopefully," Joly explained. "See, it depends on the position of the baby and several other factors, but I thought we could try it. Imagine, hearing an unborn baby's heartbeat! Science is truly, truly remarkable. Who knows what new things we'll discover even just tomorrow!" Joly grinned and shook his head, still practically bouncing with excitement.

Gabrielle looked at Enjolras, trying not to laugh, but also feeling incredibly excited. Joly's good mood was infectious, and it was incredible to think they may actually be able to hear their baby's little heart. "I'd like to," Gabrielle said. "Do you mind, Antoine?"

"No, of course not. What does she have to do?" Enjolras asked, squeezing her hand.

"Well, I thought we could do it at your home this evening," Joly said, suddenly a bit uncomfortable. "See, she shouldn't be wearing all these clothes...you know, undergarments and a corset and a dress...I won't be able to detect the heartbeat through all of those layers. So." Joly looked distinctly uncomfortable practically asking Gabrielle to undress in front of her husband.

Gabrielle laughed. "Joly, darling, you're going to deliver this baby. I think the time for modesty on my part has passed."

Enjolras looked a bit uncomfortable with the thought, but finally shrugged, and mumbled, "Very well."

"Great! I'll go find 'Chetta. We'll go with you when you're ready to leave." Joly walked out of the room with an excited spring to his step and Enjolras turned to Gabrielle, laying his hand on her stomach.

"Hearing a heartbeat? That seems almost impossible." He moved his hand in a slow circle and Gabrielle smiled.

"Well, he said it may not work. But it would be amazing." She gazed at him a moment, then said quietly, "You look tired. You scold me for working so hard all the time, but you seem as if you're about to fall over. You know you can slow down a bit, right?"

Enjolras frowned. "We've only been open a few months. Things aren't falling into place as easily as I thought they would, and some of these kids are just...walking disasters." He sighed. "I feel like I have to be here as much as possible, or our staff will quit."

"They won't," Gabrielle reassured him. "Musichetta does an amazing job here. You need to let her take over for you a bit. And Molly is running the kitchens so well; everyone under her knows exactly what to do. Everyone you hired is more than competent, Antoine. They don't need you breathing down their necks all the time."

Enjolras didn't respond, but stood and gently pulled her up with him. "Are you ready to go?"

Gabrielle nodded and grabbed her shawl, wrapping it around her shoulders. She took Enjolras' arm and they met Joly and Musichetta in the front hall by the door. Musichetta was humoring Joly's excitement and grinned at Gabrielle behind his back.

"I hope you don't feel like one of his science experiments, darling," she said apologetically. "Although if it works, I imagine it will be rather exciting."

Gabrielle laughed. "It's fine, really. I'm happy to be his experiment for now."

They climbed into the waiting _fiacre_ and talked animatedly until they arrived at home, where Joly immediately exlaimed, "Alright! Gabrielle, the best place to do this is probably in the bedroom. I'll need you to lie flat on your back, and remember, it's best not to have so many clothes on..."

"Joly, darling," Musichetta interrupted gently, "Perhaps Gabrielle would like to eat something before we begin? It is time for dinner."

Gabrielle patted Joly's arm reassuringly and smiled. "I'm fine. I'd like to get started, actually. Antoine, will you help me?"

Enjolras followed her into their bedroom. She soon felt him slowly unbuttoning her dress, and she stepped out of the material when he was finished. She changed into her comfortable and loose cotton nightgown and laid down on the bed, pulling the covers up to her stomach to at least have some semblance of modesty. She gave Enjolras' hand a reassuring squeeze, and he called softly to Musichetta and Joly. Musichetta must have given Joly a good talking-to because he was all business as they entered the room, even walking in a more measured and grounded step.

He laid his bag on the other side of the bed and took out the stethoscope. "Now, Gabrielle," he began, "Do you know where the baby's head is right now? I'm going to have to poke and prod a bit to see if the baby is in the correct position for this to work."

"Here," Gabrielle motioned low on her abdomen. "I think, at least. I've been feeling her kick on the other side today."

Enjolras stood near Gabrielle's head, holding her hand. His grip tightened as Joly began to push at Gabrielle's stomach, a look of concentration on his face. "Does that hurt?" he asked worriedly.

"It's not bad. It isn't pleasant, either, but it doesn't really hurt, love. I'm fine."

Enjolras didn't look convinced, but didn't saying anything else, his lips drawn together in a tight line. Gabrielle winced a bit as one of Joly's prods made the baby suddenly roll over, and Joly exclaimed, "Ah! Now we'll see..." He pushed again and nodded, then glanced up and explained, "The baby was lying forward before, but he...or she...just rolled over. Now the baby's back is against my hand, and that's exactly what we need."

"You can tell all of that just from feeling?" Musichetta wondered.

"Yes. It's really quite easy," Joly said, obviously proud of himself. He took the stethoscope and put the ends in his ears, then laid the flat part against Gabrielle's stomach. He was silent for several minutes, then reached up and took Gabrielle's wrist, feeling her own pulse. After a minute, he grinned, and exclaimed, "I can hear it! Quite a strong little heartbeat. I had to make sure it wasn't actually yours, Gabrielle, but the baby's is much faster."

Gabrielle smiled excitedly. "You can really hear it?"

"Yes. Here, Enjolras, listen." Joly grabbed Enjolras' arm and shoved the stethoscope at him. "Just put the other end where I had it, and you should be able to hear it." Enjolras looked a bit uncertain, but did what he was told, quietly listening for several seconds. His eyes flicked to Gabrielle's face, who was watching him intently, and she could tell when he realized what he was hearing.

His face flushed with emotion as two spots of color rose high on his cheeks, and his mouth grew slack. He cleared his throat as he finally pulled the stethoscope away and helped Gabrielle sit up, putting it on her ears. "Maybe you can hear," he said quietly, and put the other end back on her stomach where it had been before.

It took Gabrielle a minute to hear it, but she soon _felt, _rather than heard, the rapid thumping against her own eardrums. It sounded like the most beautiful music she had ever heard and she looked excitedly up at Enjolras. Joly's pretense of professionalism was dropped and he was shifting excitedly from foot to foot, and Musichetta just looked impatient.

"Alright, everyone has heard but me!" she finally exclaimed, and Gabrielle laughed happily.

When all of this began, she never would have imagined she would have such a home, and such a wonderful family. It made her indescribably happy to know her baby would be unconditionally loved by so many people.

* * *

Over the next week, Gabrielle managed to convince Enjolras to slow down a bit, and they began going home at a very reasonable time each night. Once she reminded him that these last few weeks were the last time they would ever be able to spend time _completely _alone together, just the two of them, he relented.

Gabrielle found herself especially tired one evening, and went to bed early. She could barely keep her eyes open, even though she hadn't overexerted herself at all that day. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow and didn't wake again until the morning. She felt a dull ache in her back, and uncomfortable cramping in her stomach as soon as consciousness hit her. She lay still for a minute, letting herself wake up and try to think clearly. The pain wasn't that bad, and it seemed to be constant, not coming in waves like Cosette and Musichetta had described to her. Gabrielle didn't think she was in labor; that should still be a few weeks away...

_Maybe I've just been lying here for too long._ She slowly sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, twisting a bit to try and make her back pop. It didn't work. She stood slowly, glancing over at Enjolras' sleeping form.

As soon as she was upright, she felt a wet trickle running down her leg and froze. Gabrielle closed her eyes and counted to ten, trying to push back the rush of panic she felt, then lifted her nightgown and glanced down. A small but steady stream of bright red blood was running down her leg. Gabrielle gasped and turned to the bed, pulling back the covers. More blood was on the sheets, quite a significant amount, and enough to tell her something was absolutely wrong.

"Antoine," she choked out, but it was barely more than a whisper. She tried again, finally screaming hysterically, "Antoine! Wake up!"

Enjolras jolted awake and sat up groggily. He mumbled incoherently for a minute, then finally focused his sleepy gaze on her. His eyes widened as he looked at her frightened face, and when he saw the blood, Enjolras froze, his face losing its color.

"Something is wrong," Gabrielle said calmly. "I need you to get Joly. Fast."

Enjolras immediately jumped up and dressed, then ran into the next room, coming back with a towel in his hand. He laid it on the bed and helped her lay back down, his eyes wide with worry and fear.

"Don't move," he said sternly. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I love you." He quickly kissed her, and then was gone, leaving Gabrielle to worry by herself. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe deeply and stay calm, but the panic was slowly rising.

This couldn't happen. Nothing bad could happen. Nothing could go wrong. _Please, _she prayed, and anxiously waited until Enjolras came back with Joly.

* * *

**Uh-oh. Ended on a bit of a cliffhanger there for y'all. Sorry about that...*whistles innocently.***

**First of all, the descriptions of those kids in the orphanage come straight from my own life and the things I've observed working in a very high-need school the last two years. Right now, in these last few weeks of school, I'm seeing a LOT of kids acting out and becoming hysterical. Why? Because the summer is almost here. They have to go home for two months. They don't trust us to actually be there when they come back. One little girl locked herself in the staff bathroom the other day and screamed for an hour and a half, talking to our therapist through the door. Poverty and neglect and abuse is just absolutely FUCKED UP, y'all. No other way to put it.**

**Also, the whole thing with the stethoscope/heartbeat...that can be done! When my cousin was pregnant, we were able to hear the baby's heartbeat in about her 35th week of pregnancy with a stethoscope. Stethoscopes, in their "current" design were just starting to be used around 1830, too, btw. And I wanted a last bit of lightness before the blow at the end.**

**And last (or not)...sorry for not updating sooner! My round of strep was NOT done last weekend and I have had a horrible week. I completely lost my voice Wed, Thurs, and Fri! I'm feeling better now, though.**

**Oh. BTW. AARON FREAKING TVEIT. sduvsibvpansdviubis The audio and videos I've seen from the show last night are to die for. I have a deep, deep, deep jealousy of everyone that gets to go. **

**ANNNNNNNNND. I joined tumblr! Follow me on there at moonlightandmagnolias85...although I've really done nothing there so far but look at other people's Tveit gifs. Whatevs!**


	32. Chapter XXXII

Chapter XXXII

It was 7:45 in the morning. Joly was at the orphanage, helping Musichetta. He had promised Enjolras he would spend the morning there in his place while Enjolras relaxed with Gabrielle at home until noon. Enjolras had never run so fast in his life; his mind was absolutely blank, but his body was filled with panic and adrenaline. His lungs were on fire in the cool morning air, but he refused to slow down. It was a ten minute walk to the orphanage from the house, but Enjolras reached it in less than five running at full speed.

He burst through the doors and immediately began screaming for Joly, no doubt frightening everyone else in the building in the process. Enjolras ran blindly from room to room, still screaming Joly's name, and suddenly he was before him, eyes wide.

"Good God, Enjolras, be quiet! You're scaring the children!" Joly grabbed his shoulders and shook him roughly, and Enjolras clamped his mouth shut, realizing he could hear several children crying upstairs.

Musichetta flew through the door, her hand at her throat. "Enjolras! What's wrong?" she exclaimed.

"It's Gabrielle," Enjolras panted, running a hand through his hair. "She's bleeding. There was a lot of blood. There shouldn't be _blood,_ Joly...we need to get back there." Enjolras grabbed Joly's arm and began dragging him to the front door.

Joly grew pale, but took a deep breath and dug his heels in. "Enjolras, _wait. _I need my bag. Give me ten seconds."

Musichetta stared at Enjolras, her gaze frightened, but she managed to say reassuringly, "It's going to be fine, Enjolras. Everything will be fine."

Enjolras didn't respond, but waited impatiently at the door for Joly, who soon reappeared, bag in his hand.

"I ran all the way here," Enjolras said. "We can take a _fiacre_ back, unless you think you can keep up with me."

"I can keep up," Joly said grimly. "It will be faster."

Enjolras nodded briskly and set out again, hearing Joly fall into step behind him. Enjolras ignored the burning cramp in his side as he ran, his only care or thought in the world about getting back to Gabrielle. Joly actually outpaced him, and Enjolras felt a surge of gratitude for his friend for caring so much and trying so hard; he let him get ahead, but was still only thirty seconds behind when he reached the house. He ran into the bedroom to find Joly examining his wife, who was openly sobbing on the bed.

Her face was pale, and she choked out his name as soon as he appeared in the doorway. His heart stopped as he noticed more blood on the towel he'd placed beneath her. He bent over, trying to slow his racing heart, and managed to stumble over to the bed. Gabrielle clung to him, her whole body shaking.

"I haven't felt her move," Gabrielle sobbed. "She usually doesn't stop in the morning, especially when I'm lying still. And then I realized I hadn't felt her at all..." Her voice was panicked and rough with tears, and Enjolras tried his best to soothe her, wrapping her tightly in his arms.

"Now, Gabrielle," Joly said firmly, "that doesn't necessarily mean anything. Don't jump to conclusions, I need you to stay calm. Your baby needs you to stay calm."

"It's alright, love, it's going to be okay." Enjolras' voice came out shaky and ragged, but he was determined to stay strong for Gabrielle. He would not allow himself to break down in fear, though he felt like curling up in a ball and sleeping until this was all over. He couldn't face the thought of losing either of them, his wife or his child. It might kill him.

Joly was remarkably calm, though he was sweating from nerves and from their run. His hands were steady as he gently examined Gabrielle. "The bleeding seems to have stopped, which is the good news," he said quietly. "It was a significant amount of blood loss, though, and not normal. You said the cramping and pain you felt before is gone now?"

Gabrielle nodded.

"I don't think you're in labor," Joly said hesitantly. "But I wouldn't be surprised if it starts soon. Honestly, you could have this baby today or in a few weeks. There's really no way to tell. This could just be a complete anomaly and everything could be fine..."

"Or?" Enjolras asked.

"Or it could indicate a problem. But there's no way to know unless it happens again." Joly sighed and leaned against the bedpost, suddenly looking exhausted.

"What does it mean that the baby isn't moving, Joly?" Gabrielle asked again.

Joly glanced at Enjolras, then looked back at Gabrielle, his eyes soft. "Honestly, Gabrielle, it really might not mean anything at all. In the worst case scenario, though, it...it would mean exactly what you think it does. I would only be worried if you still haven't felt it in a few hours. I could try to find the heartbeat again, but I don't have the stethoscope anymore; I borrowed it. I could try and get it back, but that would mean leaving and I think I should stay for now."

Gabrielle closed her eyes and bit her lip, forcing more tears down. "Of course. It's best for you to be here."

Enjolras gently laid Gabrielle back down on the bed, keeping her hand firmly in his. "What should we do, Joly?"

"Well. All we can do is wait," Joly said uncertainly. "And, whether the baby comes in a few hours or in a few weeks, I think it's best if Gabrielle moves as little as possible until then and stays mostly in bed and off her feet. It's better to be cautious. And hopefully, there will be nothing at all to worry about."

Gabrielle nodded and squeezed Enjolras' hand. "Could I have some water, Antoine?"

"Of course." Enjolras made to leave, but Joly held up a hand.

"I'll get it. You stay here, Enjolras." Joly left the room and Enjolras pulled up a chair next to the bed, collapsing into it.

He leaned his forehead against Gabrielle's side and closed his eyes, fighting back tears. He hated feeling so helpless. Their baby could be dead, for all they knew, and there was no telling whether or not Gabrielle would come out of this alive, either, and it was too much. He took a deep, ragged breath, and felt Gabrielle's hand stroking his hair.

After a few minutes, he finally raised his head, his eyes dry, and took her hand, bringing it to his lips. "I love you. No matter what, I love you. And I need you, both of you, to be okay."

"I love you, too." Gabrielle managed a small smile. "I feel alright; nothing hurts. Maybe Joly's right, and it was just..." She shrugged. "Who knows. We can't do anything but wait."

Joly came back into the room with a breakfast tray and Enjolras thanked him gratefully. They all nibbled on the food in relative silence, and Gabrielle finally asked, once they were finished, "So, I'm just supposed to stay in bed from now on?"

Joly nodded. "Yes, for the most part. Obviously, you can rise to bathe and...well, for other basic needs. But you should stay off your feet and laying down as much as possible. The less movement, the better. And..." Joly squirmed a bit, but finally said in a rush, "and obviously you two shouldn't have intercourse anymore." He blushed.

Gabrielle managed a small laugh at Joly's expense, but nodded. "Right."

Enjolras just grimaced. After a few minutes, he asked, "Joly, is it too much to ask for you to stay here today? All day? I know you have other engagements and things to do, but it would ease my mind."

"Of course, Enjolras. I won't go anywhere, for as long as you need me."

"Thank you."

Eventually, after it was clear the bleeding had indeed stopped, Joly retreated to the library to give Enjolras and Gabrielle a bit of privacy.

Enjolras still sat in the chair next to the bed, holding Gabrielle's hand and gently rubbing circles on her wrist with his thumb. He seemed calm, but he felt exhausted and overwhelmed, and knew it probably showed on his face.

"Will you hold me?" Gabrielle suddenly whispered, and Enjolras looked up to find tears in her eyes again.

"Shhh, Gabrielle." He stood and moved to the other side of the bed, gingerly climbing in next to her. She turned on her side to face him and Enjolras wrapped his arms around her tightly. He rubbed her back and kissed her, telling her over and over again that he loved her. It was the only thing he could think of that made any sense at the moment, and eventually, she quieted again in his arms. He thought she might have fallen asleep, but she suddenly gasped and pulled away a bit, her eyes widening. Enjolras sat up with his heart in his throat, and was about to call Joly, thinking something was wrong, but Gabrielle smiled.

"I just felt...the baby kicked. I know it," Gabrielle whispered. She bit her lip and waited, her brow furrowed. "I know I didn't imagine it."

Enjolras watched her carefully and slowly lowered his hand to her stomach, praying that it would happen again, and that they would know their child was alive. It took several minutes, but finally, Enjolras felt a rush of movement against his hand. He not only felt a few kicks, but what seemed like a few somersaults as well, and he let out a deep breath of relief had hadn't realized he'd been holding. Gabrielle laughed and he embraced her again.

"Thank God." He kissed her gently, his lips lingering against hers longer than usual. "It's all okay. It's alright. You're both going to be fine." His voice was firm and hopeful, containing no trace of the lingering fear he still felt.

"We are," Gabrielle agreed, but Enjolras thought her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

* * *

Fear gripped Gabrielle; even though the bleeding had stopped hours ago and hadn't started again, she was still more terrified than she had ever been in her life. Everything had been perfect so far. She had even felt sorry for other women who didn't have pregnancies as easy as hers. Now all of that changed, and she was too scared to move a muscle. The unknown was the terrifying part – what was wrong? What caused it? Was the baby going to come _today _or tomorrow, or early at all? And if it did, would it survive? Would _she _survive? She couldn't die. She couldn't leave her child alone, and she _couldn't_ leave Enjolras alone. Gabrielle was terrified of what he might do if he lost her.

She slept fitfully throughout the day, though she knew Enjolras lay awake and ever watchful beside her. Joly came to check on her periodically, each time seeming a little more confidant that she was going to be fine, which did ease her mind a little. Henri arrived with a note from Musichetta in the afternoon, wanting news, and they sent him off with several messages – for Musichetta, Marie, the Durands, and Marius and Cosette.

Within an hour, Marie arrived, and Enjolras slipped silently into the hall to talk to her. Gabrielle feigned sleep; she didn't want to talk. She didn't want to move. What if something she did caused the bleeding to start again?

"Antoine, what happened?" Marie asked fearfully. Gabrielle could just hear her voice through the crack in the door.

Enjolras haltingly relayed the story to her, his voice shaking, and when he was finished, everything was silent for a minute. Finally, Marie asked quietly, "Are you alright, Antoine?"

"No," he choked out, and Gabrielle squeezed her eyes shut when she heard the sound of his crying. She hated it, hated knowing he was as scared as she was, hated hearing someone who was usually so stoic and strong break down. That meant there was reason for her to be scared, too, if he was. Marie soon led Enjolras away from the door and everything was silent again. Gabrielle stared at the wall, finally beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable from keeping so still and laying in the same position for hours. She held her breath as she turned on her other side, but was reassured when she felt the baby move again.

After some time, Marie quietly slipped into the room. She smiled brightly when she saw Gabrielle was awake and sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand.

"Is Antoine alright?" Gabrielle asked quietly, and Marie rolled her eyes indulgently.

"Of course you would ask about him first," she chastised. "He's fine, Gabrielle – he's scared, of course, and worried, but that's understandable. I forced him to lay down in the library, and he finally fell asleep. I think once he wakes up, he's going to be able to be much stronger and calmer for you. But how are _you, _darling? Are you feeling alright?"

"Nothing hurts; I feel like I always do, not unusual at all anymore. But I'm scared to move, scared that I'll do something..." Gabrielle swallowed and closed her eyes. "Marie, I can't...I don't think I could bear it if something is wrong." She hastily wiped at the tears that began to fall.

"You can, and you will, if you have to," Marie said firmly. "That isn't to say that anything _is _wrong, Gabrielle – it was over very quickly, from what Monsieur Joly told me. But no matter what happens, you will bear it. You will get through it, and so will Antoine. You're both strong, and nothing, _nothing_, will break you unless you let it."

Marie's words stopped Gabrielle's tears, and Marie continued. "You need to stay calm, and confident, for the baby's sake. It will do you no good to sit and worry all the time. You'll make yourself sick."

Gabrielle nodded and squeezed Marie's hand. "I know. Thank you, Marie."

Marie smiled reassuringly and smoothed Gabrielle's hair. "Come now, lets sit you up and I'll brush your hair. It's a tangled mess."

Gabrielle slowly sat up and turned her back to Marie. She soon felt her brush running through the strands of hair, gently untangling the knots and snarls that had formed. It was comforting, and Gabrielle closed her eyes, gradually beginning to feel more calm and peaceful. Marie braided Gabrielle's hair when she was finished brushing it, and then said quietly, "Now, come. Joly said it's alright for you to move a little bit. Lets get you clean and changed into a fresh nightgown, and then I'm going to change these sheets."

Gabrielle felt a stab of fear again, but let Marie cautiously help her out of bed. Nothing seemed unusual as she stood, so she she made her way over to the wash basin, stripping her nightgown from her body. Gabrielle began to wash herself and averted her eyes from the dark red stains that spoke of that morning's horror while Marie changed the bedsheets. After they were both finished, she dutifully lifted her arms and slipped into a fresh nightgown and dressing gown. She had to admit that she felt much better. Marie helped her settle back into the bed, sitting up this time against several fluffy pillows.

"I feel much better, Marie, thank you," Gabrielle said gratefully.

Marie leaned down and kissed her cheek. "That's what mothers are for, dear. Now let me go get you some books to keep yourself occupied."

Marie left the room, but was soon replaced by Enjolras standing uncertainly in the doorway. He looked much better after his nap, but his eyes were still fearful and rimmed with red from crying earlier. He surveyed Gabrielle silently and walked slowly over to her side, reaching down to finger the brain in her hair. "I see my mother has worked her magic."

"She has. And I'm feeling much, Antoine. Normal, even."

Enjolras sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to kiss her. "You promise?"

Gabrielle nodded and gently prodded his shoulder. "Are _you _alright?"

"I'm fine."

Gabrielle raised her eyebrows skeptically, and Enjolras smiled tightly. "I am, love. You scared the hell out of me, but I'm fine now. My mother gave me a thorough talking-to, as well."

"I don't want you to constantly fuss over me," Gabrielle said firmly. "We need to be as normal as possible. I don't want to spend all of our time worrying and being scared. Even if I have to stay in this bed all the time, that doesn't mean you have to tiptoe around."

"I know. We'll make the best of it." He squeezed her hand. Marie soon entered with several books, but they all fell into conversation instead. Gabrielle found her mood slowly lifting, the darkness replaced by an optimistic feeling. Everything would be alright.

* * *

The next day, Gabrielle convinced Enjolras to go to work for a few hours when Musichetta stopped by. He wasn't the type to stay cooped up at home, and she knew the more he sat and stared at her, the more anxious he became. It would do him good to be out of the house for a while and concentrating on other things. He left only once Musichetta told him to send Henri as soon as he got to the orphanage; that way, if anything should happen, Henri would be able to relay a message to Enjolras straight away. He was fairly pacified with that plan.

"Do you think he's ever going to calm down?" Musichetta huffed, dramatically falling into the chair next to the bed. "I couldn't stand his hovering if I were you!"

"He's really not been that bad – just the thought of leaving set him off again. He's been very helpful yesterday and this morning. But he _can't _stay in the house until this baby decides to come. I'll kill him." Gabrielle grinned.

"With good reason!" Musichetta laughed. "But tell me, honestly; are you alright?"

Gabrielle's smile faltered and she sighed. "I'm...I don't know, really. I keep telling myself that it doesn't do me any good to think negatively or worry, but still. I was never so scared in my life as I was yesterday when I saw all that blood. I thought..." She stopped, her throat burning with unshed tears. "I thought I was going to deliver a dead baby. And if that happens...'Chetta, I think I would want to die."

Musichetta leaned forward and grasped her hand. "It's not going to happen, Gabrielle. I know it was frightening and unexpected, and it certainly wasn't _good. _But you, and the baby, are going to be alright."

Gabrielle nodded fervently, desperately wanting to believe Musichetta's words. "'Chetta, you'll be here, won't you? When it happens?"

"Of course, Gabrielle. Where else would I be?"

"You have to promise me something then."

Musichetta didn't say anything and looked at her cautiously, almost as if she knew what Gabrielle was going to say.

"If something goes wrong...do whatever you need to do to save the baby. Even if it hurts me. I don't care." Her voice came out confidant and strong, not at all shaky and scared anymore.

Musichetta studied her for a moment, then nodded. "You don't have to ask, Gabrielle. You know I will. I'm a mother, and I've lived through the pain of my child dying. I would have gladly taken her place. I know how you feel. But honestly, darling..." Musichetta smiled tightly. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"Of course." Gabrielle breathed a sigh of relief at knowing Musichetta understood and would do the hard thing, even if Enjolras couldn't. She knew Musichetta would understand, and had a feeling both Cosette and Marie would, too. If it came down to it, they would outnumber Enjolras. They would convince him. "Just, seeing as how the unexpected has already happened, I wanted to make sure."

Musichetta sighed and stood, scooting into bed beside Gabrielle. Gabrielle smiled and rested her head on Musichetta's shoulder. "What does it feel like? Being in labor?" she asked.

"It's hell," Musichetta said simply. "Or at least it was for me. But, honestly, I've been present at quite a few births now, and some women seem to barely feel a thing. I suppose it's different for everyone. But I felt like my insides were literally being squeezed in a vice. And my back ached so horribly I couldn't get comfortable no matter how I moved. Not to scare you or anything."

Gabrielle laughed. "Yes, well. Thank you for that. There's no use lying about it, though. And, you know," she teased, "my ever _calm_, and rational, and not at all anxious husband swears he's not leaving my side through the whole thing. So that should be fun for all of you who have to corral him, too."

"Lord help us all." Musichetta winced. "I'll tell Joly to bring a sedative, just in case."

"That's probably a good idea."

They were silent for a while and finally, Musichetta said contemplatively, "He's so very in love with you, you know. The kind of love you read about in books, that you aren't sure really exists in real life. That's what you have with him. Real romance and passion. And as if you weren't already lucky enough with just that, he respects the hell out of you."

Gabrielle bit her lip and blushed. "I know. Trust me, I thank God every day. I never expected it. But you have it, too; with Joly."

"Eh." Musichetta waved her hand dismissively. "It's love, yes, but a very different kind of love. It started out as nothing more than an arrangement. Then became a friendship. And now, yes, I do love him. Very much."

"Do you think you'll marry him, 'Chetta?"

Musichetta was silent for a while, then said slowly, "He has asked..."

"What?!"

"Shh. I keep saying no."

"He's asked more than once? Why do you turn him down? You just said you love him!" Gabrielle turned her head to look at Musichetta and noticed her eyes were clouded.

She finally admitted, "I don't think I can give him a child, Gabrielle. And he deserves a woman that can."

"How do you know?" Gabrielle asked quietly.

Musichetta sighed and worried her lip. "I haven't been..._careful_...in quite some time. A _long_ time. I don't know why. I wanted to see, I suppose. If I did become pregnant, then I would have said yes, knowing we could have a family. And I knew he would have done the honorable thing and married me. But I haven't gotten pregnant. And I don't think I will. It's just a feeling I have; I just know, somehow, that I can't carry a child anymore. And Joly should marry a woman that can give him a family."

"But he wants _you_," Gabrielle said softly. "Don't be a martyr, 'Chetta. You deserve to be happy with him."

She was suddenly struck by how horrible her pregnancy must make Musichetta feel. And she had never shown jealousy or bitterness, not once, only kindness and never-ending support. Gabrielle's eyes filled with tears, and she said quietly, "Oh, 'Chetta, I love you so much. You're so good to me. I want you to be happy so badly!"

Musichetta smiled wryly and squeezed her hand. "I love you, too, Gabrielle. And I am happy, don't get me wrong. There's no use wallowing in what I don't have. You never know...maybe next time he asks, I'll say yes."

"I hope so."

* * *

**First of all, you guys are freaking awesome. I hit 300 reviews, and I NEVER thought that would happen. I honestly thought people wouldn't give a shit about this Enjolras/OC story. I can't thank you enough for reading and reviewing!**

**Also, it makes me really, really happy to know that y'all HONESTLY don't know whether or not I'm going to actually kill my main character. haha I love that you are truly worried, because that means I'm doing something right in keeping you on your toes. And you're correct - you really don't know. Because my favorite books are _Wuthering Heights _and _Gone With the Wind_, and they're not exactly known for their happy endings.**

**...but everything is fine. For now. ;)**


	33. Chapter XXXIII

Chapter XXXIII

The next few weeks went by uneventfully, and for the first few days, Enjolras barely slept. He stared at Gabrielle all night, waiting for something to happen, waiting for something to go wrong. He had to be ready to run to Joly at a moment's notice, and he refused to let his brain be clouded with sleep. Nothing ever happened, however, and Gabrielle slept peacefully, though every time she moved, Enjolras tensed, poised for flight.

When Enjolras went to the orphanage in the afternoon, he slept on the sofa in his office. It was the only time he could relax enough to close his eyes, and he barely had enough strength left to keep going.

But, gradually, things went back to normal, or as normal as they could be considering Gabrielle was still confined to bed. Nothing else unusual happened and Enjolras slowly began to loosen up as the tight, restricted feeling in his chest somewhat lifted. He even began to feel optimistic that maybe Gabrielle would have a safe and easy delivery.

Joly came to check on Gabrielle at least every other day, and Enjolras always hovered nearby, hoping to hear encouraging news. As terrified as he was to watch Gabrielle suffer through the pain of childbirth, he would be relieved when it was finally over. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized just how much he longed to hold his child in his arms.

One day, Joly looked up and grinned after he gently felt Gabrielle's stomach. "Have you felt anything different in the last day or two, Gabrielle?"

Gabrielle glanced at Enjolras and said reluctantly, as if afraid to admit it in front of him, "Yes, quite a bit. The baby is moving less. I feel more pressure. And I think...well, I don't know, but I think it may be time soon."

Joly nodded. "The baby has moved. The head is down now, and ready for birth, which is exactly where it's supposed to be. That's a good sign." Joly moved to the foot of the bed to examine Gabrielle and Enjolras averted his eyes. Even though it was strictly medical, he still didn't like the fact that his friend was gazing at a very _private _part of his wife that he felt strangely possessive of.

"Yes, it will definitely be soon. All of the signs are there," Joly soon confirmed. "Have you had any pain yet?"

"Yes," Gabrielle admitted, and Enjolras straightened in alarm, beginning to glare daggers at her for not telling him. "Only every once in a while, and not bad at all. And my back aches, just like Musichetta said hers did."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Enjolras asked, exasperated.

"Well, there's really no need to yet," Joly told him placatingly. "Honestly, it could still be a few days, Enjolras. Or it could be tonight! There's no telling, really. A woman's body is quite incredible! Believe me, Gabrielle will know when her labor really begins, but I think you are in the early, _early _stages. Your body is preparing itself."

Joly clapped Enjolras on the back, oblivious to how he had begun to stiffen as the conversation continued. The panic and anxiety he had only recently rid himself of was back in alarmingly full force.

Gabrielle smiled apologetically as she saw his panic level rise. "Antoine, really. You need to relax. It's a good thing, love – the baby will be here soon."

"You should have told me you were feeling pains," he muttered. "And Joly, I hope you don't think you're going _anywhere_ now."

Joly raised his eyebrows and Gabrielle cringed.

"Antoine!" she said sharply. "Joly is leaving. When we need him, we know exactly where to find him. He has a life to live, you know."

"Not right now he doesn't," Enjolras insisted.

Joly slowly began to back towards the door, eyeing his friend suspiciously, like he was about to tackle him at any moment. Which he might. "Enjolras, really. I don't need to be here. There's absolutely no urgent need."

"And clearly, being here with _you _right now would be so much fun! Quite a party," Gabrielle teased, and then said pointedly, "_Goodbye_, Joly. Thank you!"

Joly nodded, turned, and practically sprinted out of the room. Enjolras turned to glare at Gabrielle again and asked irritably, "What was that for? Don't you think it would just be better to have him here until it happens?"

Gabrielle shook her head vehemently. "No. You heard him, love; the baby could come tonight, or tomorrow, or the next day...there's no way to know. And he has things to do, other patients to see to. There's no reason for him to be here."

"I see every reason," Enjolras said firmly. "To keep you, and our child, safe."

Gabrielle sighed, and her eyes softened as she looked at him. Finally, she said quietly, "Antoine, I know you're frightened. And that's alright. But, darling, you have to know...even Joly's presence isn't a guarantee of safety."

Enjolras walked heavily to the chair next to the bed and sat, his hands gripping the arms. "What are you telling me to do, Gabrielle? Prepare to lose you? To lose the baby?"

Gabrielle turned towards him and reached out, laying her hand soothingly on his arm. "Yes," she said gently. "There's no other way to put it, Antoine. You have to know you can't control everything. And you can't control this. Neither can Joly. Whatever happens will happen. We just have to hope it's good, and that in the end, we have a healthy, beautiful baby."

Enjolras studied her face intently, taking in every feature and nuance in her expression – her sincere dark eyes, petite nose, full lips, strong jaw – and suddenly gripped her hand, his grip crushing. "I won't prepare myself to lose you, Gabrielle. I won't. I will fight for you. And you will be _fine_, because I say it will be so. Do you understand me?"

Gabrielle smiled almost sadly and nodded. "Yes, Chief," she murmured, and Enjolras blushed at his old nickname. "I can see that no matter what I say, it won't make a difference. You'll do what you need to do."

He nodded firmly and brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles reverently. "I will."

* * *

Three days later, Enjolras was working from home in the library when Gabrielle felt the first pain. She was standing at the washbasin, gently toweling her face dry, when it began: slowly, at first, just a small cramping that soon spread to her lower back, causing her to cling to the edge of the dresser. She was doubled over, gasping, and couldn't even manage to call for Enjolras until it passed. It was more intense than she had anticipated, especially for it being the first she really felt that signaled _something _was truly different.

She walked carefully back to the bed and rested on the edge, her heart beating quickly. _This is really happening_, she thought in disbelief.

"Madame Enjolras? Are you alright?"

Gabrielle looked up at the sound of Henri's voice and was about to answer when her husband appeared behind him, apparently roused from his work haze at the sound of Henri's question.

"I'm fine, Henri. Will you go into the garden for a little while? You may need to go get Joly soon, stay close."

Enjolras raised his eyebrows and immediately came into the room, shutting the door behind him as Henri scampered off to the garden in back.

"Is it...happening?" Enjolras asked apprehensively.

"I think. Maybe. I just felt something a few minutes ago. It was rather intense, not like anything else I've felt. I don't know if it will happen again."

"Get back into bed," Enjolras commanded, and quickly crossed the room to help her. He sat perched on the edge and took her hand, gripping it tightly. "Is everything alright?"

"I think so...there's no blood," she added reassuringly, and squeezed his hand.

"Good." Enjolras breathed a sigh of relief and looked around the room in bewilderment. "So, what do we do now? Just wait?"

Gabrielle laughed and sat up, fluffing her pillow up behind her. Enjolras quickly added more to keep her comfortable. "I think so. Joly said we should keep track of how far apart each contraction is – he wants us to get him when there are fifteen minutes between each one."

"Well, how long has it been now since the last?" Enjolras reached over to the nightstand and grabbed his pocket watch.

"About five minutes, maybe. And now I feel fine, like nothing happened at all."

"Well..." Enjolras shrugged, his eyes trained on his watch. "Tell me when something happens."

"Believe me, I think you'll know," Gabrielle said.

They sat silently for several minutes. Gabrielle played with a loose string on the coverlet and Enjolras fidgeted incessantly. After about twenty minutes, Gabrielle suddenly felt it again, and immediately turned onto her side, gripping the sheets. "Antoine," she mumbled, and soon felt his strong hands tentatively rubbing her back.

"You're holding your breath, Gabrielle," he said quietly next to her ear. "Breathe, love."

Gabrielle reached behind her and moved his hands lower. The pressure of his hands kneading her lower back immediately helped ease the pain a little bit, and she said quietly, "Harder, please." She took a deep breath, focusing all of her attention on slowly breathing in and out.

After what seemed like an eternity, the pain passed, and Gabrielle's grip on the sheets loosened.

"Alright?" Enjolras asked quietly, and Gabrielle nodded. She could tell he was trying very hard to stay calm, and there was a sort of frantic energy running just underneath his skin. "Do you need anything? Tell me what you want me to do."

"Nothing right now, I promise. Lets just wait until they get closer together." Gabrielle turned over to face him. "We might as well talk about something else while we wait."

She engaged him in conversation about a new little girl at the orphanage that he had been telling her about, one who seemed to be exceptionally bright. Enjolras was soon extolling about how unfair it was that such a girl would never get to experience a higher education; Gabrielle suspected that he was just as keen to distract himself as she was.

The next few hours passed slowly, with each contraction gradually becoming a little worse than the last, but not really much closer together. Gabrielle soon couldn't find comfort laying down, and Enjolras shadowed her as she walked, sometimes clinging to the bedposts, sometimes squatting on the floor as the pain hit. She knew she was scaring Enjolras out of his mind, but while in the midst of the pain, when she felt like she was burning from the inside out, she didn't really care.

Finally, Enjolras burst out, after a particularly painful contraction that left Gabrielle curled up and moaning in a ball, "Alright, Henri is going for Joly now. Those last two were only about seventeen minutes apart. That's close enough."

Gabrielle was already too tired to argue and just nodded. She closed her eyes after Enjolras left to fetch Henri from the garden, wishing she could sleep, but the seventeen minutes (maybe) before the next contraction hit just seemed a tease, more than anything.

Enjolras came back with a fresh pitcher of cool water and a rag to dampen her forehead. Gabrielle gazed at him as he tilted a glass to her lips to help her drink, insisting on doing everything for her, and realized he was being remarkably cool and collected. His hands were steady, his eyes focused and clear, and his voice low and soothing every time he spoke. She didn't know if it was an act or not, but she was grateful.

"You're being rather wonderful." Gabrielle smiled and reached up to touch his cheek. He looked quite handsome, too; he had removed his coat and cravat, leaving the neck of his shirt open, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. "Thank you for being here. Most men can't stomach childbirth."

Enjolras smiled and leaned down, placing a lingering and tender kiss on her lips. "I think that's wrong." He put his hand on her stomach and said quietly, "We created this life together. Shouldn't we both be here when our baby enters the world?"

Gabrielle sighed and mumbled, "And hopefully that will be soon."

* * *

Despite his calm appearance, Enjolras was spectacularly nervous on the inside. He was going to be a father; in just a few hours (hopefully) they would see their baby. He had no idea what it was going to feel like, or how he would react, but his stomach was in knots just thinking about it. For now, though, it took all of his concentration to help Gabrielle, and try to ease her pain in any way he could. He did whatever she wanted him to, whether it was rub her back or hold her up as she leaned against him. It was strangely intimate, touching her so gently, and whispering in her ear, though he wasn't sure if she actually knew what he was saying at all.

It was obvious the contractions were getting more intense by the time he sent for Joly, though things obviously weren't moving exceptionally quickly. It was now after four in the afternoon, and it was mid-morning when the labor had really started. Enjolras had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

There was soon a knock on the door, and Enjolras opened it to Joly and Musichetta on the other side, both looking anxious.

"Is everything alright so far? Her bag of waters hasn't broken, has it?" Joly asked, shaking Enjolras' hand formally.

"She isn't bleeding...and what in the world does that mean?" Enjolras asked.

Joly waved his question away. "Never mind! You'll know when it does, believe me. I'll just go examine her then." Joly marched into the bedroom and shut the door, and Enjolras sighed, looking sidelong at Musichetta. It was the first time he had left Gabrielle all day and he suddenly felt exhausted.

"Have you eaten, Enjolras?" Musichetta asked kindly. "You need to take care of yourself, keep your own strength up. I can fix something for you, if you'd like."

"There's no need, I'm really not hungry. Thank you, though."

"It wasn't really a question, actually," Musichetta informed him, and took off her coat, hanging it in the hallway. "I'll be in the kitchen. Yell if you need me."

Enjolras watched her walk away and shrugged, about to enter the bedroom again when another knock sounded on the door. He opened it to find Marius, Cosette, and the baby bundled up warmly in his mother's arms.

Marius grinned when he saw Enjolras. "Henri's making the rounds," he immediately explained. "You were there with us, so we thought it only fitting we hurry over."

Enjolras laughed and embraced his friend. "Thank you for coming. I'm sure Gabrielle will be happy to have you here, Cosette. Joly is in there with her now, and Musichetta is making some dinner in the kitchen."

"How is Gabrielle? And you, Enjolras?" Cosette asked, her bright blue eyes showing gentle concern.

"Gabrielle is...incredible," Enjolras said in a clear tone of admiration. "But it will probably be quite a bit longer. And I'm fine."

Marius grinned and took in his appearance. "Damn, I can't find anything to really tease you about yet. You look very calm."

Enjolras smiled wryly. "Don't worry, you'll probably have your chance for revenge later."

Joly soon opened the bedroom door, leaving it open just a little bit. "Everything seems to be absolutely fine, Enjolras. I think it will still be quite some time, unfortunately, but so far, everything looks normal."

"Thank you, Joly." Enjolras went back into the bedroom and closed the door, and, heedless to whoever should walk in next, crawled onto the bed next to his wife, abandoning all pretenses of modesty. He wrapped his arms around Gabrielle and buried his face in her neck, kissing her warm skin gently.

Gabrielle laughed and playfully tugged at his curls. "Are you _sure _you're alright?"

"I am." He kissed her again and pulled away to look at her. "I'm glad _you're _alright. Joly says everything seems normal. I think you're absolutely incredible. No man I know could endure this kind of pain."

"Thank you." Gabrielle looked up at a soft knock on the door. Musichetta didn't wait for an answer and opened it to poke her head in.

"Enjolras, come eat your dinner. Cosette and I will stay with Gabrielle for a bit."

Enjolras sighed and looked down at Gabrielle. "Do you mind, love? I won't be long."

"No, not at all. Go," she urged.

He disentangled their limbs and rose, leaving the room silently. Joly and Marius were both standing in the hall, and Joly smiled at him contemplatively as he closed the door behind him.

"You, my friend, have changed," he remarked.

Enjolras shrugged and picked up his discarded jacket from the back of a chair, sliding it over his arms. "And is that a bad thing, Joly?"

"Absolutely not, _mon ami_. I just never imagined I would see you be so tender and loving with a woman. A woman having your _baby_, come to say. In fact, if someone told me two years ago that I would live to see this day, I would have laughed in their face. Combeferre would have told them they were crazy, and Grantaire would have asked for whatever they were drinking."

Marius just laughed and nodded in agreement.

Enjolras chuckled and admitted, "I wouldn't have believed it, either. Strange what time does to you."

"Strange what a good _woman _does to you."

* * *

The night passed slowly, and Enjolras was beginning to think it would absolutely never end. Gabrielle was clearly exhausted, and even in the dim candlelight that lit the room, Enjolras could see the dark circles under her eyes. She had begun to cry out in pain with each contraction, and her low moans of misery were beginning to drive him mad. He didn't know what to do, especially since Joly kept saying that the time just hadn't _quite _come for her to push yet, even though each pain was only a few minutes apart, at most. He desperately wanted to help her, to take the pain away, or speed things up, but there was absolutely nothing he could do. He hated feeling so helpless.

After a particularly painful contraction that left Gabrielle so tired she could barely speak, Musichetta pushed him gently from the room. "Enjolras, you need to go have a stiff drink," she commanded gently. "Come back in a few minutes when you're feeling a bit less frazzled. I don't want Gabrielle to worry about you." She closed the door in his face before he could respond and Enjolras sighed, running a hand through his hair.

He rarely drank, but the idea did seem appealing at the moment. He would indulge in just enough to take the edge off. He went into the library to find both Marius and Joly dozing on the sofa, but they soon woke at the sound of bottles clanking as Enjolras searched for a bottle of whiskey in the cabinet.

"How is she, Enjolras? It doesn't sound like it will be long now," Marius said with a yawn.

"I don't know how women do this," Enjolras said quietly. "And I can sure as hell tell you that I will do everything I can to have this _not _happen again." He had decided a few hours ago that a baby was definitely not worth all of this pain and agony. He couldn't put his wife through this again. He actually felt guilty.

Marius smiled and gestured to the couch. "Sit down and rest. Are you looking for some whiskey?" he asked knowingly, and Enjolras nodded.

Marius took his place to look and soon found the bottle and three glasses. He had just started to pour when Enjolras snapped, "Only two. Joly's not drinking. I need him sober enough to actually deliver this baby when it decides to come."

Joly nodded reassuringly. "Whatever you say, Chief. I most certainly won't drink on the job."

Marius handed him a glass and grinned when Enjolras knocked it back in one gulp, feeling satisfied at the way it burned going down his throat. After two more glasses, he felt a bit better, and Marius helpfully cut him off, knowing what a lightweight he was.

_I'm only going to close my eyes for a moment,_ Enjolras thought, and rested his head against the back of the sofa. He must have drifted off, for the next thing he was aware of was being woken up by a piercing scream. He jumped up, still half asleep, and rubbed at his eyes before he remembered what was actually happening. Marius was still asleep in a chair, but Joly was nowhere to be seen. Another scream ripped through the air, only this time Gabrielle was screaming his name.

He jumped into action and sprinted to the bedroom, practically flying through the door. Gabrielle was on her knees on the floor, leaning against the bed. "'Chetta," she called desperately, "Please, please...oh, God, I think I'm dying." She grasped at the bedpost, her knuckles white.

Enjolras felt his heart stop as he rushed to her side. He knelt next to her and smoothed her hair. "I'm sorry, Gabrielle, I fell asleep," he said quietly. She glanced at him and managed a small smile, trying to reassure him, before her face crumbled in pain again.

She suddenly gasped and reached out to grab his arm. He helped steady her and looked up at Musichetta helplessly. "Is she alright? Is this normal?" he asked Musichetta wildly.

Musichetta nodded and pressed a damp cloth to Gabrielle's forehead. "Yes, Enjolras, it's normal. It's just very close to the end. She's going to need to push soon."

"Oh," he mumbled. He looked around and noticed Joly and Cosette getting things ready. Joly was obsessively cleaning his instruments, even the ones he was unlikely to use, and Cosette was laying towels on the bed.

Gabrielle suddenly cried out again and said frantically, "Something is wrong! I can't...oh, God, there's blood. Antoine, there's blood!" Gabrielle lifted her hand from between her legs and Enjolras froze in horror. Her fingers were covered in blood. He looked down at the floor and saw more blood slowly spreading across the floorboards, much more blood than last time.

He squeezed his eyes shut as an image of the barricade suddenly sprang into his mind, seeing the blood soaked cobblestone streets, hearing the screams of his dying friends that sounded too much like the sounds of suffering that currently escaped Gabrielle.

"Get her on the bed, Enjolras! Now," Joly commanded, immediately springing into action to hastily spread more towels.

Enjolras only hesitated a moment before scooping Gabrielle into his arms, blood staining his shirt, arms, and hands. He laid her as gently as he could on the bed, close to the edge where Joly was, and sat next to her, keeping his arms firmly around her shoulders and helping her sit up. She had begun to cry and clung to his arms, writhing in pain. Her eyes were cloudy and her face already incredibly pale.

"Please, please, Antoine...please, make it stop," she pleaded, and Enjolras pressed his lips to her forehead.

"It's going to be alright, Gabrielle," he said soothingly, though he felt like his heart was being ripped in two. His greatest nightmare was coming true before his eyes, and he didn't know what to do.

Joly was calm, his hands steady as he examined Gabrielle. He looked up at Enjolras and said quietly, "She's hemorrhaging, which is just a way to say she's bleeding and I don't know why. I have two options, Enjolras."

Musichetta moved to Gabrielle's other side and took her hand, Enjolras noticed, and for a moment, Musichetta and Gabrielle's eyes met. He saw an understanding pass between them and Enjolras gritted his teeth, possessively tightening his hold on his wife.

"She can push, and try to get the baby out naturally. Neither of them may survive, I don't know, with all of this blood. I can't say. It's time for her to push, anyway, though. Or..." Joly took a deep breath, as if steeling himself to say something difficult, and said in a rush, "Or I can operate. Gabrielle won't make it through, Enjolras, she's losing too much blood. But I think I could save the baby."

Musichetta immediately said forcefully, "Save the baby. It's what she wants."

Enjolras froze and glared at Musichetta. He knew if looks could kill, she would be dead on the floor.

"I agree," Cosette said quietly, but firmly, and Enjolras turned his head to her next, absolute disbelief on his face. How could they agree to this? How? He noticed Marius standing in the doorway, a look of fear and absolutely pity on his face, and Enjolras felt his blood turning to ice. He couldn't lose her, he absolutely couldn't.

"I'll kill you if you touch her," he growled, and was frightened even of himself in that moment, at the absolute truth of the words he spoke.

"Antoine, please," Gabrielle whispered. "They're right. I told you before, I _told _you it's what I want. _Please_, love."

Enjolras fiercely shook his head and took her face in his hands. "_No," _he said emphatically. "I won't let you do this. I won't. You are going to have this baby _now,_ Gabrielle. You need to find the strength to do this." He realized he was crying, sobbing so hard he could barely speak, but he didn't care.

Gabrielle reached behind his neck and pulled his head down to hers, just barely brushing her lips against his. Her lips felt cold, he realized, and fear gripped his heart.

"Please do this for me, Gabrielle," he said desperately, and she finally nodded, her eyes sad, but resolute. He knew she couldn't refuse him, not in the state he was in, and though he felt guilty for going against her wishes, if there was even the smallest chance she could make it out of this alive this way, he had to take it.

Joly glared at him for a moment, and Musichetta was clearly so angry she couldn't even speak, but Enjolras didn't care.

"Help her sit up, Enjolras. You're going to need to brace her. She needs to concentrate all of her strength on pushing." Enjolras nodded and helped Gabrielle sit up farther. He braced himself halfway behind her back, with Musichetta on her other side, and took her hand, squeezing it gently.

He kissed her damp hair and whispered in her ear, "You can do this, Gabrielle. You have to do this for me. I can't live without you."

"Gabrielle, the next time you feel pain, I need to you to take small breaths and push slowly," Joly instructed her. "Almost as if you're panting. Do you understand?"

Gabrielle nodded, and did as Joly instructed. She suddenly screamed, however, losing control in the midst of her anguish, and Enjolras winced, her grip on his hand strong enough to leave bruises. He noticed more blood on the towels in front of Joly and began praying silently, to a God he didn't even believe in, to whatever higher powers there were, to keep Gabrielle safe.

Joly was concentrating intently and said sharply, "'Cosette, I need another towel! Gabrielle, keep going, just keep going. There's no turning back now. Push again!"

Enjolras gently encouraged her, trying not to let her feel his fright. He whispered in her ear and helped her sit up farther; he could tell she was quickly losing strength. Enjolras looked at Joly with wild eyes, but his friend was focused on his wife.

"Please, please..." Gabrielle gasped.

"Joly, _do something!" _Enjolras finally roared. He couldn't stand to see her like this, and feel so absolutely powerless. He was going to lose her, lose both of them, and he knew he wouldn't live through the guilt of losing anyone else he loved.

"Shh, Gabrielle, you're doing fine, everything is alright," he said softly, trying to reassure her. "You need to push, my love, it will be over soon..."

"Good, Gabrielle!" Joly suddenly exclaimed, a smile on his face. "The baby's head is out! The hardest part is over. You're almost there!"

Enjolras felt another sob escape his chest at Joly's words. Gabrielle bore down again, and again, weaker each time, and suddenly, Joly was holding a tiny, bloody baby in his hands. There was no sound, from either the baby or Gabrielle, and Enjolras felt her head roll limply to his shoulder. He gently laid Gabrielle back on the bed, his fear building to panic as he realized her eyes were closed. She wasn't responding, her skin pallid and lips almost blue. He knew she had lost an incredible amount of blood...probably too much.

"Gabrielle!" he screamed her name over and over and shook her lifeless body wildly. "Joly, you need to help her!" he yelled, and looked frantically around the room. Joly ignored him, and Enjolras felt as though he had been punched in the gut when he saw the equally helpless and limp form of his baby between Joly's hands. "Oh God," he whispered. "What have I done?"

"Get him out of here!" Musichetta screamed at Marius, who was still standing helplessly in the doorway. Enjolras soon felt himself being forcibly half dragged and half carried across the room. Tears blurred his vision and the bedroom door suddenly slammed in his face.

Marius stared at him, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Enjolras fell to his knees, his head in his hands, and prayed. There was nothing else he could do.

* * *

**Hi. **

**...**

**Yeah, I went there.**

**Got pretty dramatic and intense.**

**...**

**Is she dead?**

**...dunno. Guess you'll have to REVIEW this chapter (please!) and wait patiently until the next to see who survives! (Hell, even Enjolras isn't safe.)**

**Happy ending? Bittersweet ending? Who knows. Muahahahahaha. :) **

**~Aimee**


	34. Chapter XXXIV

Chapter XXXIV

Enjolras didn't know how long he stayed on his knees. Time seemed all at once to fly and drag endlessly on. If he had any strength left, he would have barreled straight back into the bedroom, but he seemed to be frozen in place; he was stuck, drifting in a void. Sounds were distant, coming at him through a vacuum. He had never felt so completely alone, so empty. He was convinced, in the blackest part of his soul, that both of them, his beautiful wife and innocent child, were dead.

And it was what he deserved. It was fitting that this would be the end for him. Fitting that he would be allowed such exquisite happiness for so short a time only to have it ripped away. He knew, once he had truly surrendered and let down his walls, and given in so completely to _life _and happiness, that it wouldn't last. It was why he had always been so reluctant to become attached to another person, to let a woman love him and know him. Happiness wasn't meant to be forever, or to even last for a lifetime.

He was meant to die on the barricade. Why hadn't he died on the barricade, fighting for those ideals and values which seemed so simple in comparison to _this, _this all consuming love and passion for another person? His _Patria _had never made him feel so desperate, so confused and confounded. He should have died fighting for her. If he had, Gabrielle would still be alive, and safe, living her life without him. Yes, she would have been alone...but she would have been _alive._

Enjolras had killed her, as surely as he had killed all of his other friends. And it would still kill _him_ yet, he knew.

He felt a hand on his shoulder which he knew must belong to Marius, but he didn't even have the willpower to shrug it away. It provided no comfort, anyway; what did he care whether Marius tried to help him or not?

After a few minutes, the bedroom door slowly creaked open and Enjolras looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and glassy, filled with despair and self-hatred. Musichetta stood in the doorway, her face grave and eyes blazing. He felt anger radiating off of her in waves, and knew he deserved it. He craved it from her, wanted her to yell at him, to hit him, to make him feel something.

"I will never forgive you if both of them don't pull through this," she said quietly, but with a simmering rage behind her words.

Enjolras stilled, his breath caught in his chest. Sound came rushing back in all at once, and he could even hear the blood coursing through his body. "They...they live?"

Musichetta nodded once and said shortly, "Barely. You can come in now, Enjolras."

Enjolras stumbled to his feet in disbelief, his legs weak and wobbly beneath him. He walked slowly into the room and to Gabrielle's side, taking in the slight rise and fall of her chest. She still looked deathly pale, and was clearly not out of danger, but Enjolras felt hope spring to life inside of him again, almost painfully. It hurt to breathe, and he couldn't stop himself from laying his head on Gabrielle's chest, his tears falling softly onto her skin. He held her as tightly, but gently, as he dared. He could hear her heartbeat, faintly, under his ear, and it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

"Don't jostle her, Enjolras," Joly said gently, appearing at his side. "The bleeding has stopped for now, and I don't want to take any chances of it starting again. If she loses any more blood..." Joly let his words trail off, his meaning clear.

Enjolras didn't respond, and instead pressed his lips against hers, willing her to wake up. He moved his mouth closer to her ear and said too quietly for anyone else to hear, "Come back to me, Gabrielle. I need you."

He was startled at the sudden, and very weak cry, of a baby, and his spine stiffened involuntarily. It was almost as if he had completely forgotten, didn't even remember that he now had a child. He straightened and turned a blank gaze to Cosette, who stood on the other side of the bed holding a very small bundle in her arms, wrapped in a soft blanket. She cooed softly to the baby, rocking it gently, and glanced up at Enjolras, her eyes as gentle and understanding as ever.

"You have a very beautiful little daughter, Monsieur," Cosette said in her soothing and airy tone. "She's already a very lucky little girl. And I know she must desperately want her father to hold her."

Enjolras swallowed and watched Cosette walk around the bed, stopping at his side. She reached out to give him the baby, but he quickly shook his head and took a step back. He didn't know what to do, didn't know if he could face this. He just wanted to curl up next to Gabrielle and hold her hand, talk to her until she woke up.

Cosette gave him a stern look, or as stern as she was capable of, and said quietly, "Please, Enjolras. Gabrielle would want you to hold her. This baby needs her father right now."

Finally, Enjolras nodded, feeling a bit cornered, and allowed Cosette to place the baby in his arms. She felt so light it was like holding nothing but air, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight for a moment before eventually looking down at her.

A rush of emotions hit him all at once as his gaze roamed over her fragile body, things he had absolutely never felt before. He only knew she had the most beautiful face he had ever seen, and a sudden deep and visceral feeling overtook him. It was the most overwhelming experience of his life.

She was his. Somehow, by some miracle, he had been granted the protection and keeping of this little soul that he now held in his arms. Keeping her safe and making her happy now seemed the most important thing he could ever do. Enjolras slowly sat in the chair next to the bed, his legs shaking too much to support him anymore, never taking his eyes off his daughter. He wanted to memorize her every feature.

Her skin felt incredibly soft as he ran his finger along her cheek, and she opened her mouth at his touch, her lips just like her mothers, full and pouty. The way she pursed her lips back together was already familiar, as he had seen Gabrielle do it when she was lost in thought a million times. She was actually theirs – half of them both. It was absolutely incredible. Enjolras pulled the blanket back to see a ridiculous amount of dark, almost jet-black hair covering her head, and smiled. Strange how just a few minutes ago he thought he would never smile again. Of course their child would have a head full of hair – both he and Gabrielle had enough to spare for three other people.

The baby's nose was so tiny Enjolras could barely believe it, and he gently pulled one of her arms out of the blanket to look at her hand. It looked incredibly small against his finger and he leaned down and kissed it softly, already enamored as his daughter's tiny fingers curled around his own in the weakest of grips. He ran his finger along her skin and felt tears tightening his throat. God, she was beautiful...

Enjolras looked up at Gabrielle, wishing more than anything that she would wake up to hold her daughter. His gaze drifted around the room and he realized he was now alone; his friends had all left, giving him privacy in his dual time of grief and ecstasy. He wondered how he could possibly feel so elated and terrified all at once, but he did.

"You don't even have a name," he mumbled, looking back down at the baby. "I don't know what your mother wants to call you."

He frowned and shifted the baby so her head rested in his hand, the rest of her body cradled on his arm. He had a better view of her this way, and thought he could have stared at her for hours. He had actually thought quite a bit about names; he knew that if the baby had been a boy, they would have called it Alexandre Julien, for Gabrielle's brother and his dear friend, Combeferre. But he hadn't thought of a name for a little girl, and didn't want to call her something Gabrielle would hate, or something that didn't fit. Her name needed to be perfect, just like she was.

"I suppose you'll just have to be nameless until your mother wakes up," Enjolras sighed, and almost as if she was outraged at the idea, the baby opened her eyes, blinking slowly, and stared at him. Enjolras sucked in a breath as he saw his own eyes looking back: they were the same shape and the same grayish blue, the color of the foam on the ocean, or a stormy summer sky. He felt as connected to this little girl as he ever had to anyone or anything else in his life, and it was completely and totally overwhelming. He imagined it had to be even more so for Gabrielle, who had actually carried her for nine months. That had to form an incredible bond, even before birth.

His chest constricted again at the fact that she wasn't awake to share this with him, to enjoy their daughter. Enjolras felt tears fill his eyes and he pulled the baby closer to him, cradling her against his chest. He cried silently for several minutes, and soon, the baby joined in, her mewling cries soon turning into full blown wails.

Enjolras tried to quiet her, but to no avail, and he was reminded once again that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Cosette soon entered the room to help him, and he felt grateful for the rescue. He didn't care at all that tears still stained his cheeks, and Cosette was too kind to mention it. She knelt by the chair and reached out to lay a hand on the baby's back, rubbing small circles.

"She's most likely hungry, Enjolras," Cosette said quietly, and Enjolras turned a confused gaze to the young woman.

"How will she eat?" Enjolras asked worriedly. "If Gabrielle can't feed her?"

"Well..." Cosette sighed and offered gently, "I'm still nursing Jean. I could do it, Enjolras, I don't mind. If not me, we'll have to find someone else who can."

Enjolras was silent for a minute – he didn't know how Gabrielle would feel about it, but it seemed like the only and best option he had. He finally nodded and let Cosette take the baby. It physically hurt to see them leave the room, and an unexpected anger washed over him. It should be Gabrielle nursing their baby; she would be so disappointed and hurt if she couldn't.

Enjolras rose and walked around the other side of the bed, climbing in next to Gabrielle as carefully as he could not to move her too much. Every bone in his body ached with exhaustion. He just needed to be beside her, needed to be right there if she woke up. He watched her breathe for several minutes, satisfied she was still out of immediate danger, and took her hand. He kissed it reverently and scooted as close to her as he dared, soothingly rubbing her arm.

He didn't know if she could hear him or not, but he began to talk. He described their daughter and how it felt to hold her, how much he wanted, _needed _Gabrielle to wake up to take care of them both, and how much he loved her. Time had no meaning as he spoke, and Enjolras talked until he fell asleep.

* * *

Enjolras woke in the morning to his mother's soft touch on his brow.

"Antoine? Wake up, darling."

Enjolras blinked awake and looked slowly around the room. When had his mother arrived? He was still in his soiled and bloodstained clothes from the day before. He felt wretched, as though he hadn't slept at all, though he knew he had. Tentatively, he reached out a hand and felt Gabrielle's still form beside him on the bed.

"She's alive, Antoine, don't worry." His mother answered his unspoken question immediately. Enjolras nodded faintly, but didn't let go of Gabrielle's hand. It's warmth was comforting, though he found he still had no desire to move, not until she woke up.

"Come now. You need to rise and begin your day. You have quite a bit to learn about caring for a newborn baby," Marie said gently. "Don't you want to spend some time with your daughter?"

"You can bring her to me here," Enjolras said stubbornly. "I'm not leaving Gabrielle."

Marie sighed and contemplated him for a minute. "Fine, we'll compromise. You get up, bathe, and put some fresh clothes on. Then you can stay with Gabrielle as long as you want to. With the baby."

"Fine." Enjolras rose, his movements automatic. By the time he was actually finished bathing, dressing, and eating breakfast, he found he had no memory of doing any of it. His thoughts alternated between his wife and his child, and there was no room for anything else. He sank down into a chair next to the bed and was startled from his contemplation by a soft, high-pitched whimpering near his feet.

The baby was in her cradle near the bed, the one he had picked out and purchased, and was awake. Her tight swaddle had been loosened by her movements and her little arms flailed helplessly, her hands balled into fists. It seemed she didn't like the freedom, like she wanted to feel the protection and confinement of being tightly wrapped in her blanket. Enjolras understood that at the moment, considering he wanted to bury himself under the blankets of the bed and stay submerged until everything went back to normal. It _had _to go back to normal.

The baby's face was steadily turning red as she readied herself to let out what Enjolras was sure would be an almighty wail. He quickly bent down and picked her up, trying to tighten the blanket around her. She settled immediately in his arms, her color returning to normal, and looked up at him, her blue eyes heavy with sleep.

He held her silently for several minutes, rocking her gently in his arms. They were lost in a staring match and he was fascinated watching the few expressions she had flit across her face. At times she looked serene and peaceful, and in a second, she would scrunch up her little face, her nose and brow furrowed, and seem about to scream...but then she would yawn or wiggle, and settle down again. She was just a baby, he knew, but to him, she seemed the most interesting creature on the planet. There could absolutely never be another human as wonderful. The rational side of him knew that most fathers probably felt this way about their children, but he also knew he tended to feel things more deeply and more completely, than most people. It may have taken him a while to give in and surrender, both to falling in love with Gabrielle and accepting that they were having a child, but once he did, he gave in completely.

His daughter would have it rough as she grew up, with Enjolras breathing down her neck; he already knew it would be hard for him to ever let her go. The thought made him smile, as he wondered what kind of values he and Gabrielle would instill in her. What kind of person would she become? Would she ever find a man worthy of her? He knew she would be highly intelligent, probably extremely independent, and most definitely, outspoken. There wouldn't be many people who deserved her affection. Enjolras already knew all of this about her, about this tiny baby in his arms, yet he didn't even know her name.

"It's strange," he finally said quietly, more to himself than to the baby, "I avoided women my whole life, and now I live with _two _of them..." He smiled crookedly and sighed, glancing up at Gabrielle. He was happy to see her cheeks looked rosier today, and took that as a good sign. She had to wake up soon. He couldn't stand spending another night alone.

Enjolras stood, cradling the baby against his chest, and looked down at Gabrielle. "You have to wake up," he said quietly. "I have no idea what I'm doing, Gabrielle."

He laid the baby next to Gabrielle and climbed into the bed, keeping the baby safely in between them. He took Gabrielle's hand and kissed it gently. Enjolras rested both of their hands on the baby and sighed, resigning himself to wait however long it took for Gabrielle to wake up. He would wait for her forever.

* * *

_Gabrielle struggled through the darkness. It was vast, it was completely black, and it was all around her, an endless, torturous void. Her heart beat frantically in her chest as she stumbled forward, hands stretched in front of her so as not to run into anything. How could it be so dark? She couldn't even tell if her eyes were open; there wasn't the slightest pinprick of light to guide her way. Where was she? And where was she even going? _

_ She didn't know, but her feet moved interminably forward, anyway, echoing noisily against the stones beneath her. The sounds seemed to bounce off of something – buildings, perhaps? - but she never ran into anything, no matter where she shuffled to. For all she knew, however, she could be going in an endless circle. She was completely lost. Maybe if she just stopped, just sat down and refused to move again, something would happen...but no, that thought, of being stuck here in this darkness, alone, forever, was more terrifying. If she kept moving, just kept going, maybe she would find something._

_ A feeling of desolation crept steadily upon her the longer she walked. She knew she was absolutely alone, without another living soul anywhere near. It felt doubly horrible considering she hadn't been alone at all for the last nine months; she had carried her baby inside of her, felt the stirrings of life in her belly, and had always had someone to talk to. She had never felt alone. Now she felt empty, lifeless. Limp. And she wanted her baby. Where was her baby?_

_ The longer she walked, the more tired she grew. It would be so easy to just give up, give in to the darkness all around her. If she just closed her eyes and let herself be still, she would be able to rest. She would be able to sleep. She knew it. And it would feel so good, to just stop thinking for a little while..._

_ Even as the thought entered her mind, a tiny spot of light appeared in the distance. It flickered like a candle, and Gabrielle felt hope spring up inside of her again. _

_ "Antoine?" she called softly. She knew he would be looking for her; he would never give up on her, never let her wander through the darkness alone for very long. It had to be him._

_ "Antoine?" she called again, her weary steps echoing faster, moving towards the light._

_ There was no answer, though the light grew brighter and larger the closer she got. She began to see the faint outline of buildings on either side of her, and realized she was walking the streets of Paris, though they were eerily empty, and seemed...fake, somehow. False. There was no sky above, no stirrings of wind or nature. She had never felt or seen anything like it._

_ Gabrielle slowed to a walk as the light, and the building it was emanating from, grew larger. It was crooked, dilapidated, and looked close to collapse, though she knew it would probably still be standing in another hundred years, despite its decrepit appearance. The light from the second story window of the Musain burned steadily, and as she stood in the street and watched, a dark shadow passed in front of the window. It wasn't Enjolras – she knew his form inside and out, had memorized his every curve and angle. _

_ It was her brother._

_ He stopped in front of the window and looked down at her, bathed in shadow. She thought she saw a smile flicker across his face as he gazed at her, but he said nothing, just beckoned her forward._

_ Gabrielle hesitated as she moved to cross the threshold into the building. Would she be able to come out again? _

_ Honestly, she didn't know, but the temptation of seeing and speaking to her brother was too much, and Gabrielle quickly bounded up the back staircase, heedless of their still precarious state. "Alexandre! Is it really you?"_

_ Feuilly turned away from the window to face her and opened his arms in a shrug. "As far as I know, it is still me." He gave her a soft, almost sad smile, and held out his hand to her. "Is it really you, Gabrielle?"_

_ "Yes..." Gabrielle said slowly, and stepped across the room in three quick strides to embrace him. He felt wonderfully solid against her, not a ghost at all, but real flesh and blood. She hugged him tightly, clinging to his shoulders, and breathed in his familiar scent: paint, ink, and parchment, and the smell of the soap he always used. "Oh, Alexandre, how I missed you."_

_ "I know," he said softly. "I miss you, too, Gabrielle." He pulled away to cup her face gently and looked searchingly into her eyes. "You don't look like a little girl anymore. Marriage, and motherhood, agrees with you."_

_ Her eyes darkened at the word "motherhood" and Gabrielle sucked in a breath, a sudden realization washing over her. _

_ "I...does being here...this place...am I dead? Did I die?" she whispered, stumbling over her words. Panic gripped her lungs and made it hard to breathe._

_ Feuilly grasped her shoulders firmly, but his voice was steady. "I can't answer that fully, sister. I don't know. I think...well, I think it is up to you."_

_ "Up to me? How can it be up to me?" she asked, exasperated. "As much as I want to see you, I want...I want to go back," she said desperately. "Where is Antoine? And my baby? I need to see them, Alexandre..." Her voice trailed off, choked with tears, and Feuilly looked at her sadly._

_ "They're fine, Gabrielle. Enjolras is fine. He's taking care of your daughter. You could stay here with me, you know. And it would be alright."_

_ Gabrielle blanched and pulled away roughly. "Alright? No, it would most certainly not be alright! I want...I want to live! I want to be with my husband!"_

_ Feuilly pulled a chair over and gestured for her to sit, which she did reluctantly. "I see it wasn't easy, bringing your child into the world," he said softly. "Or you wouldn't be here."_

_ Gabrielle closed her eyes, remembering the pain, the blood, and the horrible, desperate look in Antoine's eyes as she had given birth to their daughter. She remembered everything, every moment, every struggle, every push...and yet, she still hadn't held her baby. _

_ "I can't stay here," she said again, more firmly this time._

_ "It's safe here," Feuilly said. "Nothing will hurt you. Nothing will hurt at all."_

_ "I don't care," Gabrielle said stubbornly. "You don't understand, Alexandre...Antoine _needs _me. And I need him. He can't...he won't..." She stopped and took a deep breath, and finished quietly. "He won't be okay without me. Not really."_

_ Feuilly smiled and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "I know. You love each other."_

_ Gabrielle nodded, clinging to his hand. "I wish you could go back with me."_

_ Feuilly laughed and said jovially, "Ah, but I _am _actually dead, Gabrielle...and you are not."_

_ "Are you alright? Is..._everyone_...alright?"_

_ Feuilly nodded, his eyes searching her face. "Yes, everyone is alright. Enjolras knows that, as well. And, Gabrielle, you have to know how happy I am that you two found each other. I always thought, or wondered, if you would be good for him...and you are."_

_ "I don't remember life without him," Gabrielle admitted._

_ "Then you need to get back."_

_ "How?" Gabrielle sighed and glanced towards the window. "It was just darkness, everywhere. I couldn't see anything, or feel anything, or hear anything...not until I saw the light in the window. How do I find my way?"_

_ Feuilly sighed and shook his head. "I don't know, Gabrielle. I don't know."_

_ They sat in silence for several minutes, until Gabrielle abruptly threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "I think I have to go, Alexandre."_

_ "I know." He pressed his lips to her forehead and gave her a sad smile. "I'll see you again, someday."_

_ Tears blurred her vision at having to say goodbye to her brother for a second time, but Gabrielle nodded and rose, giving his hand a final squeeze. "Until next time," she said quietly, and slipped quickly down the stairs and out the door of the Musain._

_ The longer she stayed, the more complacent she felt, and she knew that was wrong. That was bad. She had to keep moving, even if it was only through the darkness. Eventually, Antoine would find her. Gabrielle moved away from the light, leaving it firmly at her back, and kept trekking through the silent streets of Paris. Eventually, she was swallowed by the darkness again. She welcomed the pain in her feet and legs; surely there was no pain in death, so she must be alive, if her body hurt so much._

_ She kept going, moving ever forward, and felt the ground begin to rise beneath her, sloping upward. It was the first change she had noticed, and it gave her a rejuvenated energy. Her steps became quicker and more sure as she broke into a jog._

_ "Antoine," she mumbled, and kept saying his name, like a mantra, keeping her moving. She felt that string that connected her to him, deep inside of her, and pulled, stumbling a bit on the now steep slope._

_ All at once, sounds came rushing back to her ears; she could hear a bird chirping, and laughter in the distance, the sound of a carriage on the street...and she could hear him saying her name, feel his touch on her face._

The darkness receded as Gabrielle blinked awake with a gasp. The first thing she heard was her baby's cry, and Enjolras whispering words of love and encouragement in her ear, and she smiled. She had made it home.

* * *

**Shit, guys. I apologize. I thought I would be done with this chapter by Tuesday and have it posted...but then life intervened and threw a HORRIBLE week at me, filled with an anxiety attack and other issues. And it sucked. And I slept for 16 hours on Friday night, and didn't write at all on Saturday, and then could BARELY write this today. I don't know if it's exactly how I wanted it, if I was able to convey the right emotions through my slightly numb haze over here. But I wanted to get it out because of the overwhelming and awesome response I got to that last chapter.**

**WOW. You guys were pissed. lol PLEASE, please, please, I beg of you...leave me a review for this one. Let me know what you think, and if I've redeemed myself for that horrible cliffhanger I left y'all with last time. :)**

**THANK YOU for reading. It makes me really happy to see so many people who reviewed from the beginning STILL reading and reviewing, and I can't thank you enough! (And really sad that a couple others seem to have left me! :( Bummer.) And I heard from people last time that hadn't reviewed before, too, so THANK YOU!**

**_There's only one chapter left, and then the epilogue._ :) I can't believe it...**


	35. Chapter VVVX

Chapter XXXV

"Where is she?" Gabrielle whispered, her voice coming out in a raspy croak. She tried to sit up, but Enjolras immediately placed his hands on her shoulders and gently kept her flat on the bed.

"She's right here, Gabrielle," he said softly. "She's perfect, and beautiful. I'll help you sit up so you can see her in just a moment, I promise. But please let me get Joly first," Enjolras pleaded. There were tears in his eyes, Gabrielle noticed, and wondered just how long she had been asleep. "I need to make sure you're alright."

Gabrielle nodded faintly, though it took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to force her tired limbs out of bed and go to her daughter. The baby's faint cries were twisting her stomach into knots and she wanted nothing more than to hold her. She had never felt so exhausted in her life, like she had just walked for miles and miles; and strangely, she seemed to remember doing just that, even though she knew it was impossible.

Enjolras hurried to the door and opened it, shouting for Joly into the hallway. The room was soon invaded by what seemed to be a small army: Joly, Musichetta, Marie, Marius, Cosette, and even Genevieve Durand barreled through the door, apparently expecting the worst judging by the looks on their faces.

Musichetta immediately broke into loud sobs of relief when she saw Gabrielle was awake, while Marie quickly ushered everyone right back out of the bedroom except for Joly. Gabrielle felt warmth spread through her at the sight of so many people there to help and support her and Enjolras.

She smiled gratefully at Joly. "Hello, Joly."

"I don't think I've ever been quite so happy to see someone, Gabrielle," Joly said happily. "Here, Enjolras, help her sit up...gently, now, while I put some pillows behind her back."

Enjolras sat on the edge of the bed and leaned forward, wrapping his arms firmly around Gabrielle and slowly easing her up; she was surprised to find just how little she could help him in her weakened state, and closed her eyes, resting her head against Enjolras' shoulder, her forehead tucked securely into his neck. His arms tightened around her and Gabrielle could feel his hands shaking against her back from suppressed emotion.

Joly began to talk again, but Gabrielle didn't hear a word he said as she snuggled against Enjolras. She could feel the tension leaving his body at her touch, and laid her hand comfortingly on his chest.

"Give us a moment, Joly," Enjolras interjected softly. "Rock the baby, get her to quiet down."

Joly snapped his mouth shut and coughed uncomfortably when he noticed their embrace, and Gabrielle smiled a bit as she watched him back away from the bed. Enjolras obviously couldn't bear to let her go quite yet, and she didn't mind. After being lost in the darkness for so long, being back in his arms felt like coming home.

"Did I scare you?" Gabrielle said, pressing her lips to the rough stubble covering his neck.

"Me?" he managed to let out a small, but choked laugh. "Of course not. Never."

"How long was I...gone?"

"About a day. The longest day of my life." Enjolras pulled away to look at her, cupping her face in his hands and pushing her messy hair back. "But everything is alright now." He kissed her, his lips moving gently over hers, and she tangled her fist in his shirt. When he finally pulled away, he helped her scoot back against the pillows, and added another behind her head.

"I want to see her," Gabrielle said quietly, and glanced at Joly's back. He was kneeling next to the cradle, rocking it gently with his hand.

"Joly needs to look at you..."

"I want my baby, Antoine," Gabrielle said firmly. "Bring her to me. _Now."_

Enjolras pressed his lips together and seemed about to argue, but Joly said easily, "It's alright, Enjolras. It can wait. Gabrielle seems fine to me, and you need this time together."

However reluctant he seemed, Enjolras nodded faintly and watched Joly leave the room. The baby had quieted and Gabrielle watched anxiously as Enjolras picked her up. Seeing him hold her took her breath away; she looked so small cradled against his chest. Enjolras glanced up at Gabrielle and smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed. He placed the baby in her arms, but kept his hands supporting her when he saw how tired Gabrielle still was.

Gabrielle couldn't even see through the tears that suddenly flooded her vision, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She felt Enjolras' arms wrap around her again, holding both of them close, and she began to laugh, almost hysterically. Every bit of happiness she had ever felt in her life was nothing compared to this moment, and it was all almost too much to process.

"She doesn't have a name," Enjolras said. "I didn't know what to call her. I didn't know what you wanted."

"Nicolette," Gabrielle whispered. "Her name is Nicolette. If you like it, that is."

"Nicolette," Enjolras whispered quietly, testing it out on his tongue. "Is there a reason?"

"It means 'victory of the people,'" Gabrielle admitted, and smiled as Enjolras stilled and looked at her, his eyes shining. "It was the only thing that seemed appropriate. She is your victory, Antoine."

"You both are," he admitted, and leaned down to press a kiss to his daughter's forehead. "Nicolette...?"

"Nicolette Sophie. For Musichetta."

"I think she'll like that."

Gabrielle studied the baby silently; she looked exactly how Gabrielle had imagined she would for months, only more perfect. What she felt for her was more than love. She didn't even think there was a word for it, it was so all consuming and overwhelming. And sudden.

"She has yours eyes," Gabrielle said delightedly as Nicolette sleepily opened her eyes and looked up at her for the first time. They were big and bright, and covered in long, dark lashes. Her skin was so pale and creamy, and her hair even darker than Gabrielle's own. She wondered if it would stay that way.

"She does," Enjolras agreed. "But otherwise, I think she looks like you. Thank goodness."

Gabrielle smiled and looked up at him curiously. "How do you feel? Are you alright?"

Enjolras took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Well..." he said contemplatively, "You're going to have to get used to sharing me with another girl."

Gabrielle laughed. "I can live with that. And Joly says she's alright? There's nothing wrong?"

"No, there's nothing wrong. She's perfectly healthy," Enjolras assured her. "But I was scared out of my mind for both of you." Enjolras leaned forward and kissed her nose, resting his forehead against hers. "I thought I'd lost you both. I don't know what I would have done..." his voice shook and he swallowed roughly.

"But you didn't," Gabrielle reassured him. "We're right here. And we're not going anywhere."

"I know." Enjolras took Nicolette's hand as she wiggled it free of her blanket and kissed her tiny fingers. "Neither of you are ever leaving my sight again."

* * *

After about an hour, Gabrielle was too tired to keep her eyes open anymore, but she couldn't bear to let Nicolette out of her reach. Enjolras stayed perched next to her on the bed to watch over both of them, while Nicolette slept soundly between them. Gabrielle kept her hand resting lightly on Nicolette's body, the slight rise and fall of her chest reassuring.

When Gabrielle next woke, Enjolras was sleeping deeply beside her and Nicolette was just beginning to fuss. She struggled to sit up, but found it much easier than last time, and actually felt a little refreshed. She couldn't wait to have a bath and be up and around again.

"Well, hello there. Finally."

Gabrielle turned to see Musichetta sitting in a chair by the bed, smiling softly.

"Oh, 'Chetta...you didn't have to stay. But I'm glad you're here." Gabrielle easily picked Nicolette up and held her against her chest, trying to shush her and not wake Enjolras. She knew he must be exhausted.

"Of course I stayed," Musichetta said quietly. She rose and peered down at the baby, smoothing back her hair. "I have never in my life seen a newborn baby with so much hair."

Gabrielle grinned. "She's perfect, isn't she?"

"Absolutely," Musichetta agreed, and wrapped her arms around Gabrielle for a moment. "You had us all worried, Gabrielle. But, my God, you did an amazing job. You fought so hard for her." Musichetta wiped away a tear that slipped down her cheek and said hesitantly, "And...I'm sorry. I tried to do what you wanted, and so did Cosette. But Enjolras, he was just so wild...I think he really would have killed any of us that tried to touch you."

"I know, 'Chetta. And it's alright. You didn't let me down, not at all. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't there."

Gabrielle looked puzzled for a moment and said slowly, "You know, it's strange...all of that pain, for so many hours, when I thought I was actually going to die...and now that I'm holding her it just seems like a distant memory."

Musichetta laughed quietly. "I think that's nature's way of allowing us to have _more _babies eventually. If we remembered how badly it hurt, I don't think any of us would."

Gabrielle took Musichetta's hand and squeezed. "Did Enjolras tell you her name?"

"No! He said you should get to. Oh, what is it? I'm dying to know."

"Nicolette. Nicolette _Sophie _Enjolras. If you'll allow it," Gabrielle added softly.

Musichetta was silent for a moment and sat back down heavily in the chair, staring at Gabrielle. "For my daughter?" she asked, a bit dumbfounded.

Gabrielle nodded.

"Oh, Gabrielle, that's...that's..." Musichetta buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking violently. Gabrielle glanced at Enjolras, but he was still fast asleep, oblivious to the world. "Thank you, Gabrielle. That means so much to me," Musichetta finally managed to choke out. "Really, thank you."

"You're the best friend I've ever had, Musichetta," Gabrielle said, her voice a little shaky herself. "It's the least I can do to thank you for everything."

Musichetta stood and hugged her again, then leaned down and kissed Nicolette's forehead lovingly. "Nicolette Sophie Enjolras. What a beautiful name."

"I think so," Gabrielle agreed, and frowned as Nicolette began to cry louder.

"She's probably hungry. It's been a while since she's eaten," Musichetta said. She studied Gabrielle for a moment, then said firmly, "I don't care what Joly says. You look perfectly strong to me. You're her mother, and I think you should try to feed her, if you want to."

"Do you think I can? I don't know if I'll have enough milk..." Gabrielle said, biting her lip. "And I don't know what to do."

Musichetta smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, taking the baby from Gabrielle's arms. "It's easy, Gabrielle. You'll know what to do, it's instinctual. And she knows, too. Just unbutton your nightgown and I'll give her back to you."

Gabrielle did as Musichetta said and took Nicolette back into her arms, guiding her slowly to her breast. Her eyes widened at the very strange sensation as Nicolette did indeed latch on and begin to suck right away, and she looked at Musichetta in wonder. "It feels so strange..."

"And wonderful, doesn't it?" Musichetta asked. "Enjoy this time with her. I'm going to go make you and Enjolras some breakfast. Just yell if you need me." Musichetta kissed her cheek, rose, and left the room.

Gabrielle gazed down at Nicolette and tried not to cry again. Everything felt so much more intense. Even the sun streaming in through the windows looked brighter, like she was seeing it for the first time. The bed shifted suddenly and Gabrielle looked over at Enjolras, who was just beginning to stir. He stretched and opened his eyes, his hair sticking up in every direction. His clothes were incredibly wrinkled.

"Good morning," Gabrielle said happily. "Did you sleep well?"

"Very." Enjolras rose onto his elbow and looked at her, smiling warmly when he saw Nicolette nursing. He sat up and scooted closer, wrapping his arm firmly around her shoulders. "Is she alright? Not hurting you or anything?" He rested his hand gently on Nicolette's head.

"No. It feels amazing." She leaned against Enjolras and closed her eyes, feeling completely content. They were silent for several minutes, until Gabrielle finally said quietly, "You know...I could swear that I spoke to my brother. I must have dreamed about him."

Enjolras sighed and confessed, "I dream of them, too. Although it feels much more real than a dream. Like they're really there."

"Maybe they are," Gabrielle said. "I suppose stranger things have happened."

"Like us, for one."

"Yes, like us," Gabrielle laughed. Enjolras moved to face her, though he kept his hands on her leg, rubbing gently. They were silent again and Gabrielle could feel Enjolras watching her intently. She glanced up at him with a questioning look.

"She's hungry," Enjolras observed with a smile.

"Yes, she is," Gabrielle agreed, her cheeks turning red at the intensity of Enjolras' gaze. He was looking at her with an expression she had never really seen him wear before, his eyes bright, steady, and completely full of devotion. He looked just like he used to, Gabrielle realized, except even more animated. Happy. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because I love you," Enjolras said simply. "And because I've realized, since I began loving you, that _this _is what I should have been fighting for all along. Not just vague ideas of freedom and equality, but this chance at _living. _The fight I began is truly about _people, _not ideas; everyone deserves to be this happy, yet so many aren't because of so many reasons. I want Nicolette to be this happy someday. Our daughter deserves a better world, a society that treats her like an equal, like the beautiful woman she's going to be. I want the children in the orphanage to be this happy, to have the resources to pursue whatever it is they want from life. In whatever way this fight continues, I know now what the real _end _is; for everyone to have enough freedom to pursue a life, to love another person, to do more than just get by from day to day. Just getting by is not enough," he finished passionately.

"Whatever happens, Antoine...whichever way you decide to continue the fight and release your ideas into the world, we'll be beside you. Because you're right – this _is _worth fighting for. Every bit of it." Gabrielle took his hand and squeezed. "And I think you have the beginnings of a new speech, my love."

Enjolras leaned forward and kissed her deeply, and Gabrielle could feel every bit of passion he had as their lips collided. He was brimming with it again, practically overflowing, and it thrilled her to know that she was part of the reason why.

"I thought it was over for so long," he said eventually as he pulled away. "But now I know it's only just beginning. There's always tomorrow."

Gabrielle smiled in agreement. "Yes, there's always tomorrow."

* * *

**There it is...the final chapter. It's a bit shorter than most, but there was just nothing left to say. **

**I hope you like the name - Britt picked it out. :)**

**The epilogue, which WILL absolutely set things up for the sequel, will be out in hopefully a few days. Please review and let me know what you think about this fluffy last chapter in the meantime. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!**

**P.S. Does anyone have any Photoshop skills? Want to make a "book cover" for this story? I would love you forever if you do! **


	36. Epilogue

_***The title of the sequel is announced at the end of the epilogue!***_

_***Revised June 23, 2013***_

Epilogue

_6 months later_

Enjolras hurried home in the chilly April air. The weather hadn't yet turned and the wind still had a bit of a bite to it. He was later than he'd intended, for just as he was about to leave the orphanage, some of the older boys had engaged him a discussion about the latest piece he had written for Marius and Joly's newspaper _The Republican._ He had spoken out, along with many others, on the recent law passed that was aimed at political associations. Since 1810, unauthorized association of more than twenty individuals was illegal; hence, the small size of the _Les Amis_ and the reason other such societies had haphazardly existed throughout the country, though they were all loosely connected with each other. The new law, however, broadened the definition of an illegal association and imposed harsher penalties should any such political clubs be discovered. The law passed in mid-April, only two weeks ago, and people were still up in arms about it. The law meant that what he and Gabrielle were currently involved with was most definitely illegal.

Enjolras had to explain most of of the law and what it meant to the boys, but they were interested, and he was never one to stifle curiosity. He was proud of the outrage that showed in their eyes when they understood, the feeling warming his chest.

Since Nicolette's birth, Enjolras had found a renewed passion and interest in politics; he had put aside Rousseu and begun studying the American Revolution more extensively, reading the writings of Ben Franklin and Thomas Jefferson especially. He was even helping his new acquaintance, a learned man named de Toqueville, with some writings he intended to release in the coming year analyzing the democracy in America. The American's Constitution was Rouseau's social contract put into practice, after all. Enjolras also constantly wondered if the only way to achieve a republic, governed by the people, was through a long and bloody revolution such as the one in which the Americans had to endure.

Overthrowing an oppressive state was never a peaceful occurrence, and Enjolras supposed it never would be.

This winter had been especially harsh, and the people were growing more and more restless. It had seemed to start overnight. Even as Enjolras found his own passion for the cause again, the people of Paris and elsewhere in France were also finally stirring. The cold and bitter snow hadn't frozen them, but rather made them invigorated with a restless and demanding energy. There had been riots all winter over the price of food and the low wages workers received, and it seemed as if there was no end in sight. It hadn't occurred in just Paris, either, but all over the country, in its various regions. As they starved and froze to death in the winter snow, their minds had finally been engaged by the ideas of what _could be_, and what should be. Many of them were calling for blood, specifically the blood of the king, and there were whispers of assassination attempts daily. The passing of the new law, intended to scare people from banding together, had the opposite effect. Frankly, Enjolras was surprised Louis-Phillipe hadn't yet fled Paris. Though Enjolras wasn't fond of the idea of assassinating the king, with every passing day, he waited for the news that it had happened. The situation has escalated so quickly, he wouldn't be surprised. It made Enjolras thrilled and terrified in equal parts, even though he wasn't yet sure of the role he would play in all of this.

As Enjolras opened the front door and stepped into the hall, he heard his two favorite sounds – Gabrielle's voice and Nicolette's loud, babbling laughter. They made every unpleasant thought running through his head fly away. Since his daughter had discovered her own ability to make noise, it seemed that was all she wanted to do. He didn't know if it was an indication of how much she would like to talk later in life, but if it was, they were in for many long conversations. Enjolras grinned and hung up his coat, then made his way into the library, where Gabrielle was sitting comfortably on the floor playing with Nicolette.

Gabrielle looked up at the sound of his footsteps and smiled widely when he entered the room. "Hello, Antoine. You're late! Nicolette has a new trick she wants to show you."

"Oh?" Enjolras sat on the floor next to Gabrielle and was delighted to see Nicolette reaching for him with her chubby little hands. He leaned over her and lifted her dress, blowing a raspberry on her stomach, which made her squeal with laughter again. She had begun to recognize both of her parents lately, and smiled widely whenever one of them entered the room, kicking her little feet like she wanted to get up and run to them.

Gabrielle leaned over and kissed him quickly, then picked up one of Nicolette's favorite rattles and held it in front of her, just out of her reach. "Watch," she said. "She sat up earlier, completely on her own!"

Nicolette reached for the rattle and began to fuss when it wasn't immediately handed to her. It took all Enjolras had not to snatch it from Gabrielle's hand and give it to the baby. He hated seeing her upset in any capacity, which he knew was a little bit ridiculous since it _was _just a toy, but still. After a few moments, however, Nicolette seemed to give up the fussing and with several little grunts, pulled herself up to sit. She grabbed the rattle from Gabrielle's hands and stuck it in her mouth, looking at him with what Enjolras perceived as triumph in her eyes. He laughed and praised her, reaching out to tickle her stomach. His reward was more laughter from her, and he couldn't help the contended sigh that passed from his lips.

"It's my favorite time of day when you come home," Gabrielle said bemusedly as she watched him. "You always seem so happy to be here."

"I am," Enjolras answered automatically. "In fact, I'm sorry I was late today. Some of the boys stopped me and wanted to talk as I was leaving."

"That's alright. You will always have more than just me demanding your time." Gabrielle glanced at the clock. "Speaking of, we have about an hour until the meeting begins. I ate already, but there's some supper in the kitchen."

"Thank you, love." Enjolras rose and stopped in the doorway. "Are you coming with me tonight?"

"Yes. Your mother is coming over to stay with the baby."

"Good. Genevieve was saying the other day that she hadn't seen you in a while."

Gabrielle picked Nicolette up and followed him into the kitchen, bouncing the baby in her arms to keep her quiet. "I know; I feel like I've barely left the house in weeks. It's been too cold to take Nicolette out – it feels like the weather is never going to break. I don't want her to get sick."

"Have you written at all?" Enjolras asked. Just as his own interests were renewed upon Nicolette's birth, so were Gabrielle's. Often, Enjolras would come home in the evening to find Gabrielle at her desk, using one foot to rock Nicolette's cradle as she feverishly wrote. She was almost finished with the novel she had put on hold so many months ago, when their relationship first began, and Enjolras couldn't be more impressed with her creativity. He had none of it.

"A little. She's so much more active now, though," Gabrielle said, gently uncurling Nicolette's fingers from a lock of her hair. "She demands more of my attention, and I don't mind giving it."

Enjolras smiled as watched Gabrielle nuzzle Nicolette's nose with her own, and began to eat the food left out for him. "You know, for not having a clue what we're doing, I think Nicolette is the most perfect baby in France."

"Just in France?" Gabrielle laughed and squeezed his shoulder as she went back into the hall. "I'm going to feed her and change. Your mother should be here any minute."

Enjolras ate quickly, and finished just as his mother knocked on the front door. He opened it and let her in, then went into the bedroom to change his cravat. He took Nicolette from Gabrielle as she changed her dress, and the baby was soon fast asleep against his shoulder. "Your grandmother isn't going to be happy you're sleeping," he mumbled, and laid her in her cradle.

"Will you do the buttons on my dress?" Gabrielle asked, smirking at him in the mirror.

He raised his eyebrows at the exposed skin of her back and glared at her for teasing him, though he dutifully did up every last button. It wasn't until he was finished that he lowered his lips to her neck and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in close to him. He glanced up to find her still smirking at him in the mirror; they hadn't been able to finish what they started that morning due to Nicolette's insistent fussing, and Enjolras had forced his dissatisfaction out of his mind all day.

"Are you sure we don't have time...?" he began, but Gabrielle laughed and quickly interrupted, turning around in his arms.

"No! We don't. Not for _that, _anyway..." She pulled on his still loose cravat and guided his lips down to hers for a long and slow kiss. Enjolras soon wasn't satisfied, however, and backed Gabrielle up against the wall, his knee jutting out to rest between her thighs and bring her closer to him. She held tightly to his shoulders as he pressed frenzied kisses to her mouth, neck, and shoulders. After a few minutes, Gabrielle firmly laid her hands on his chest and stopped him, pushing him lightly away. Her breathing was ragged, as was his.

"We could skip the meeting," he suggested.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes and turned back to the mirror to straighten her dress and fix her hair. "We can't, Antoine. Not tonight. There's too many important matters to discuss, and I know you want to hear about everything. But I promise that when we come home, you can do _whatever _you want." Gabrielle turned back around to tie his cravat, tucking it into his shirt. "Satisfied?"

"Somewhat."

"Oh, come on." She took his hand and pulled him out of the room, greeting Marie with a kiss on the cheek. "Nicolette is sleeping, Marie – we'll only be gone a few hours. I'll be back in time for her next feeding."

Marie frowned. "Sleeping, already? I should have come earlier," she grumbled. "You two have fun."

"Goodbye, Maman." Enjolras helped Gabrielle into her coat before putting on his own, then took her hand again as they left the house. It was cold out, and she huddled close to him for warmth. Enjolras eventually hailed a _fiacre,_ since the Durands lived too far away to walk in the cold weather. They arrived to an already full house, which included Musichetta, Joly, Marius, Cosette, and many others they had been introduced to in the last six months when they first joined the _Société des Droits de l'Homme, _or the Society of Human Rights. (It was no secret that the recently passed law was aimed specifically at their growing numbers.)

They quickly found their friends and settled down together in the parlor. Musichetta asked both Gabrielle and Cosette about the children and looked like she was about to share news of her own when Monsieur Durand introduced a man from Lyon to the group to speak about the recent revolt there. There was still so much talk buzzing in the room as Durand began speaking that Enjolras missed his name, though Enjolras noticed several other men, considered leaders in the society, stationed throughout the room.

"_Bonjour, _my friends. As all of you know, there have been riots all over France in the last weeks. Lyon has been no different; however, what occurred this last time was nothing short of a massacre on the part of the government. The silk workers that rebelled had every right to do so, and attempted peaceful protests and strikes to protest the lowering of their wages in what has been a very prosperous economy. The workers rebelled, yes, but the government reaction and the firing upon an unarmed crowd, is just one more example of the abuse of power in our current system. The passing of the law against political associations proves..."

Enjolras was distracted as Gabrielle laid a hand on his arm and leaned close, whispering in his ear, "What is Henri doing here?"

Enjolras looked to the doorway to see the boy peering uncertainly around the room. Their eyes connected almost immediately and Henri grinned, slipping through the crowd of people and over to Enjolras.

"Enjolras! I had to find you right away," Henri whispered breathlessly.

Enjolras gave an apologetic nod to the people around them who were glaring at the interruption and Henri's loud voice. "Can it wait, Henri?"

"No! Enjolras, the king is dead!" Henri said excitedly, and quite a bit louder than before. Everyone in his vicinity froze and slowly turned to look at the boy.

Enjolras felt his throat go dry as he quickly looked up at Gabrielle, who wore a stunned expression. "What, Henri? Where did you learn this?"

"I have my sources," Henri said mischievously. Indeed, even though Henri now lived at the orphanage, he spent quite a bit of time still roaming the streets. "I just heard it not even an hour ago and came to find you straight off. They say he's been murdered – poisoned."

Enjolras cleared his throat and looked around, unsure what to do. At that moment, Enjolras noticed another man, a government official who was sympathetic to their cause, whispering in Durand's ear. The man from Lyon had stopped speaking and was looking curiously at the cause of the commotion. Enjolras' heart thumped loudly in his chest as he watched Durand receive the same news Henri had just brought. He almost couldn't believe it. No, he had never set out to murder the king, but...if circumstances were that fortuitous...

Durand, being a rather small man, stood on a chair and raised his hand to get everyone's attention. "My friends!" he said loudly, his eyes filled with excitement, "I have a rather...interesting...announcement! The king of France, Louis-Phillippe, is dead!"

Gasps of shock and excited whispers immediately shot through the room, but Enjolras, Gabrielle, and their little circle of friends were silent.

Enjolras met each of their eyes in turn, and felt Gabrielle squeeze his hand in solidarity. This news was only the beginning of what could be a permanent, and major change, in France. True, his heart was now divided, and given mostly to his family, but there would always be a calling, deep in his soul, for his _Patria._

He nodded to both Marius and Joly and said quietly, "Vive le France!"

"Vive le France!" they echoed softly.

Their chief had risen again.

* * *

**Whoa.**

**Up until a few days ago, I didn't expect to go there.**

**I was going to stick to the real historical timeline for the sequel and be super boring...but then, I wasn't inspired at all. I didn't want to skip ALL of that time, to 1848, to see what Enjolras and Gabrielle were up to. **

**_I revised on June 23, after beginning the sequel and discovering the actual events of April 1834. Everything in this epilogue, except for the assassination of the king, actually occurred, and sets up my fictional revolution quite nicely! Shows how much I know about French history, so I apologize to anyone reading who does. _  
**

**So, now that this epilogue has completely set up the sequel, I have some thank-yous for everyone that has stuck with WTC.**

**My biggest bunch of gratitude goes to Brittney (BrittWitt16) and Erica (Bluehaven4220). Both have left me such wonderful reviews and have allowed me to bounce ideas off of them that really helped me with some turning points in the story. Britt especially has provided SO MUCH ENTHUSIASM even when I wasn't totally feeling it myself and I can't tell you how helpful it has been! (Also - go read their stuff. They're pretty awesome.)**

**EVERYONE ELSE, all of my amazing readers and reviewers, every single person that has PMed me and started up a conversation...thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I started writing this story just for me, and never expected ANYONE ELSE to give a damn about Enjolras and this random OC I came up with. I was very wrong, and the fact that so many people LOVE Gabrielle means so much to me. Thank you for reading. Thank you for the reviews. Thank you for the conversations. Thank you for all of the encouragement and kind words!**

**A few chapters into the story, I mentioned that my friend went missing back at the beginning of March. She is still missing, for those of you that have asked recently. They are currently pulling cars out of one of the bayous here, hoping that hers will turn up and bring some sense of closure for her family and friends. No luck so far. Here's hoping that by the time the sequel is finished, we will all know what happened to Terrilynn.**

**Look for the sequel, _Until the Earth is Free, _very soon. **

**Until next time...**

**~Aimee**

**tumblr: moonlightandmagnolias85**

**Twitter: IrishSongBird85 **


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